


Puddle Jumper Down

by ltcoljsheppard (Wolverine6Claws)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Male Friendship, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Teamwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 97,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27548980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolverine6Claws/pseuds/ltcoljsheppard
Summary: John Sheppard’s puddle jumper crashes on an alien planet with one passenger on board - Colonel Steven Caldwell. The two men have to depend on one another if they’re going to survive. Meanwhile, the Atlantis Expedition team desperately tries to locate the downed jumper and rescue the two commanders.
Comments: 19
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

<><><><>

Chapter One

# # #

In the 302 fighter bay of the galactic starship U.S.S. Daedalus, Lt. Colonel John Sheppard was preparing to embark on a routine mission to extract Atlantis’ science team from the planet's surface. The planet was designated P24-907; known by its indigenous people, and anyone who maintained a trading alliance with the teeming culture there, as Ziya. However, Ziya itself posed an anything-but-routine hazard and Colonel Sheppard didn't relish taking this trip yet again. As much as he liked to fly he just didn’t like testing fate quite this much. 

The weather was notoriously unpredictable especially in the mountainous regions. Rogue, hurricane force winds came up without warning and were frequently responsible for deaths and for downing many air and space craft. The planet also possessed a particularly infamous region for that sort of thing which bore a legend that strongly resembled the Earth lore of the Bermuda Triangle.

Ziya’s atmosphere was equivalent to Earth's with relative gravity and warmed by a single solar star. Their sun was much larger than the one inhabiting the Earth’s solar system and was the sole reason for the hot, humid environment on most of the planets in its solar system, including Ziya. The majority of the planet's climate ranged from sub-tropical to tropical with a few more temperate zones and the seasons tended to be cool and rainy or hot, humid, and rainy.

Ziya’s largest land masses had a varied range of topography consisting of treacherous mountain regions and vast arid deserts. These huge continents encircled the entire globe at the planet’s equator and proved to be extremely, and sometimes dangerously, unstable terrain with densely forested jungles and sub-tropical rainforests. Most of these areas were uninhabitable due to the extremes of weather or the geography itself, if not both. The primary habitable areas of these continents were the mountain valleys nestled deep within the Volga Mountain range itself, which afforded the people there a natural defense against the gale force winds. The mountains themselves appeared relatively young in the grand scale of universal evolution with very high and jagged ledges, caverns and peaks. To look upon them from the air, one would immediately think of the Himalayas or Colorado Rockies, only covered in forests and jungles instead of ice and snow.

During one of the first recon flyovers in separate Jumpers, both Lorne and Sheppard had noted that nearly every mountain was riddled with deep, almost bottomless, ravines and cave systems. These caves and ravines were the main reason for the team being here and were of greatest interest to the Atlantean scientists, for they contained large deposits of a mineral known as Zirite.

A naturally occurring mineral, Zirite was best known for giving off a potent electro-magnetic type of radiation. The radiation itself was a form non-lethal to humans and other organic life forms but its elements enabled it to act as a natural cloaking device. In its raw form, the mineral emitted enough energy to disturb and sometimes totally interrupt electronic, man-made and computerized navigational aids. It could blank out sensors and disrupt radio communications and therefore, while Ziya itself could be easily detected from space, once a ship had entered deep into its atmosphere, all shipboard systems were at risk of malfunctioning. Combined with the rogue winds, smaller vessels entering the atmosphere often crashed in the deep forests or would crash through the earth itself into the vast cave systems beneath the crust and were forever lost.

Besides the meteorological and planetary hazards, there were also several types of mega-fauna found in the deep forests. Many of those were creatures similar to those found on an Earth ten-plus thousand years ago; the likes of the Giant Sloth and Saber-toothed Cats, Dire Wolves and others. The flora also widely varied and, while not overtly hazardous, some of the larger varieties could easily house dangerous insect life forms; like the giant mosquito-looking thing that Sheppard had seen on his first foray to the jungle planet or the smaller reptilian creatures he saw sunning on rocks.

Because of the rough terrain, the Ziyan people relied mostly on a large four-hoofed creature for transportation. When he first saw one, the animal reminded Sheppard of a cross between a giant llama bred with an ox and a horse, which he quickly dubbed an Equinox; a blending of the names for an equine and an ox. Dr. Rodney McKay had huffed at the naming of the creature because he’d never been given a chance to christen anything. Colonel Samantha Carter had accompanied the science team per the SGC’s official request, specifically to study this new and potentially powerful mineral. She’d grinned with amusement at the name, for John Sheppard simply had a creative way of labeling things; whether they were ships or animals… or Wraith. McKay had responded to her smile with a slight roll of his eyes before heading off to begin his tasks and his reaction had made Sam chuckle softly at his back.

The Ziyan council had allocated a number of the Equinox for the science team’s use, along with experienced guides to accompany them during their excursions to the mountains. The animals were large, sturdy creatures with a crest of ridged cartilage running down the length of their necks rather than a true mane. They were also slightly more intelligent than the average horse, though not by much, and often exhibited a stubbornness to obey when they felt the trail or task was too dangerous. Over the centuries, the Ziyan people had learned to trust their animal's instincts, since they were more attuned to the ever-changing environment of the mountain ranges.

The people of Ziya had established their main settlements in broad, volcanic crater valleys which were a natural shelter from the extreme winds, protection afforded them by the vast height of the mountains around them. These valleys were lush, fertile, and quite beautiful with rivers or wide streams weaving through them and distant waterfalls that could be viewed cascading gloriously down the mountainsides. More than one Atlantean scientist murmured the word Hawaii as they looked up at the palm-like trees and the waters winding their way through the rocks to fall great distances to pools far below.

Even with all that information there was one thing that made Ziya a real pain in the ass for Lt. Colonel John Sheppard; Ziya didn't possess a Stargate. Due to the mineral's enormous effects on any type of electrical system and their power sources the Ancients, in their infinite wisdom, had chosen not to locate an Astria Porta within range of the debilitating effects of the Zirite mineral. So it was with that wonderful news that the Atlantean team had taken a journey aboard the U.S.S. Daedalus. With a small fleet of Puddle Jumpers they‘d ferried out aboard the battle cruiser, Sheppard and his small crew of gene-possessing pilots took turns shuttling teams and supplies back and forth between the galactic starship and the planet's surface. One team, led by Colonel Carter, had been exploring, researching and, testing exotic finds of all kinds on the newly discovered planet.  
McKay’s main task on this mission was to focus on possible ways to establish a Stargate system on Ziya after harvesting one of the many portals in orbit around dying or dead planets throughout the Pegasus galaxy. This would not be an easy task, for even after re-locating an abandoned Stargate from another point in the galaxy onto the planet’s surface, the portal would need to be re-configured for its new location in the galactic grid and put online in reference to the other gates in the system.

The rest of the science team was focused on mining the mineral and testing its properties, which proved to be difficult at best because the mineral itself caused havoc with their equipment. Slowly but surely though, they were making progress and testing their theories for the mineral’s successful use in numerous applications. It would take painstaking refinement to achieve a controlled and workable compound from the mountains’ raw mineral, but it‘d been deemed possible.

Meanwhile, Sheppard and his flight crews spent two excruciating long weeks shuttling back and forth between the Daedalus and the planet's surface and, as much as he lived for the thrill of flying, Colonel Sheppard simply couldn't wait to get back to Atlantis. John couldn’t shake the feeling that every time he entered Ziya’s atmosphere he was testing fate. To make matters worse, the reports now coming in showed a weather system developing over the area he needed to fly through to pick up the team and their cargo. This new development caused him some concern, but John was sure that he could get in and load the equipment before the wind speeds reached dangerous velocity.

To make room for all the science gear, equipment, and samples the team would be bringing home with them, John had off loaded most of the Jumper's normal supplies. He refused, however, to remove some of the more important stocked items. He knew from experience that it didn't matter the distance or duration of the journey, you should never ever leave your basic survival equipment behind. With that thought, Sheppard tucked the medical pack and the food and water rations back into the overhead compartment where they usually remained forgotten and rarely needed. He liked it that way too. Once the crew members from Caldwell's team had off loaded the last of the optional equipment on board, he exited the rear hatch of Jumper One rubbing his hands together with a wide grin.

"Okay, boys and girls. Your assistance is most appreciated and won't be needed again until it's time to put all that stuff back in here in, oh, I'd say four hours, tops," he informed them with an obvious look at his watch. The weary men and women made unintelligible comments of complaint under their breath, but it was all in jest. "Right!" Sheppard exclaimed, disregarding their whines by ignoring them completely. "And if there's nothing else..." John trailed off before marching back up the ramp. 

He strode through the rear cargo bay of his favorite ride toward the cockpit and Jumper One welcomed him aboard by powering up and turning on all onboard lighting when she sensed his presence in the command module. Dropping down in his left-side seat, he tapped his earpiece to announce his intentions to the bridge.

"Flight, this is Sheppard, Jumper One is ready to disembark on your Go. Colonel Caldwell? Is there anything you need, Sir, before we proceed back to the planet's surface?"

He was riding this flight solo and the inadvertent we was an unconscious reference to himself and Jumper One. It was not an uncommon thing for the Atlantean personnel to hear Sheppard speak of his interaction with the city or the city's systems as if she, Atlantis, was a living breathing partner. At first, the reference unnerved some of the expedition members, fearing that their military commander could be suffering from space dementia or some such illness, but over the years though they’d all witnessed Sheppard’s uncanny relationship with all things Ancient and it seemed to them now like a natural course for the unusual kinship.

"Nothing I needed other than you waiting for me to arrive..." Caldwell's non-modulated voice came from behind Sheppard as he walked up the ramp and through the cargo bay area of the Jumper. He was wearing his usual flight suit, but with his own black field vest, zipped up and secured. He carried no weapons save the field knife on his left hip and his sidearm in the holster secured along his right thigh. Caldwell slipped into the right hand seat and dropped into it with the ease of someone who had spent a lot of time in cockpits. "I'd say that just about covers it."

When Caldwell's voice came to him from over his right shoulder instead of his left ear, John's eyes went wide. Stiffly, he turned his head to see the Daedalus' commander strolling through the Jumper as if... as if he was coming along. Sheppard kept his hands on the controls as his eyes darted around the cockpit, wondering if he should ask... but then, nope, he didn't have to ask because the colonel simply dropped into the co-pilot's seat.

Caldwell tapped his earpiece, "Bridge this Caldwell. I am aboard and Jumper One is cleared for launch." He glanced over to Sheppard, waiting. 

Wasn't there some rule about asking permission to board another man's ship before just commandeering it? John was certain there was, and he tried to recall if that was an actual law or just a show of good manners. His thoughts were preoccupied with that dilemma, unaware that he was looking at Caldwell with a narrowed gaze until the Colonel turned to him with an expression that clearly and silently demanded "Well?"

Sheppard turned to face forward sharply. ‘Okay, this is gonna be weird.’

"Umm… Flight, Jumper One is ready for launch," he finally reported to the bridge. Then he turned a hesitant grin to the man sitting beside him and offered officially, "Welcome aboard, Sir."

Sheppard prepped the ship for launch, initiating the inertial dampeners with a thought and the engines powered up at his command. Jumper One lifted evenly off the hangar floor and slowly spun its nose toward the hangar opening. On the other side of the great door was a black sea dotted with thousands of pinprick lights. He assumed the hangar had been cleared of personnel when the yellow strobes came on, accompanied by the audible alarm that signaled a danger area.

Sheppard tossed a glance to Caldwell as the large hangar doors separated to reveal the vacuum of space beyond. With a final word from the Flight controller on the bridge, Sheppard gripped the controls lightly and Jumper One moved swiftly forward, exiting the ship's fighter bay at speeds that rivaled the 302's. He immediately steered the tiny craft toward the planet's lower orbit, gaining re-entry without so much as a jolt to the passengers inside. He navigated the Jumper more by thought than the hand controls, most of the time not even realizing it.

As they neared the land mass where the science team had been holed up for the past two weeks, the Jumper was buffeted by a blast of wind. The small craft careened to the right and Sheppard's eyes widened and his expression turned serious. "We should never have felt that," he mentioned to Caldwell who dropped back into his seat as he rebounded from the right side of the cockpit. The dampeners should quell any movement of the ship, unless the outer force was truly more than the system could handle. John swallowed thickly and tightened his grip on the controls, setting his feet firmly on the floor.

As the ship descended toward the mountainous terrain and the thick canopy of the jungles that surrounded the area, the evidence of the gale force winds was unquestionable as the towering trees bent over each other and nearly in half. He had no clue at what speeds those winds were coming in, but he was fighting the Jumper’s responses to it with everything he had. Tossing a wild look to the other pilot beside him, John warned him, "Hold on."

Caldwell heard Sheppard's words and caught a hint of panic in his voice. Steven was like every other pilot who ever held a stick in his hand, which meant he would rather die than ever sound like he was not in total control of his aircraft, so if Sheppard was actually sounding a little worried, then they were probably well and truly screwed. Caldwell's eyes darted along the instrument panel out of reflex as he gripped the sides of the chair tightly.

"What the hell's the matter with this crate?" he managed to bite out amidst all the bucking and tossing about.

‘Crate? She's not a crate,’ Sheppard thought in the back of his mind as he suddenly found himself fighting the controls with all his might. The Jumper lurched wildly as a sudden wind shear smacked the backside of the ship, tipping its nose down. John threw a glance at Caldwell as the other man got thrown over the console in front of him but was able to lever himself in place with his hands on the edge of the console's shelf. John too was thrown forward but he held tight to the two control handles now pressed up against his ribs.

Sheppard concentrated on nothing but strengthening the dampeners if at all possible and sending more power to the engine pods. He was slammed to the back of his chair as the shear suddenly stopped; reducing the strong push from behind and the nose came up sharply. Now, with no resistance, the Jumper seemed to stand on its tail end for a second before John recovered control. He took a deep breath and blew it out, looking over to Caldwell with concern. 

"You okay?" he asked. That was all he had a chance to say as another wall of hurricane-force wind slapped the side of the shuttle craft and rolled it over in mid-air. John was vaguely aware of the passenger to his right whose body that went flying onto the ceiling and then in an instant disappeared behind him… somewhere.

The Jumper was being pushed furiously toward the ground under an onslaught of crosswinds and downdrafts. The very speed of the Jumper caused them to lose altitude at an extraordinary rate and, before he knew it, the ship pitched off the top of a clump of trees. The impact sent Sheppard out of his seat and onto the console, slamming him into the angled window, then tossed him back into the chair like a rag doll. He scrambled for the seat, reaching for the controls as the ship skated off the tops of the trees and dropped into an opening in the canopy. The sun was suddenly blocked out by the surrounding jungle, blinding John as his pupils rapidly dilated and his vision tried to compensate for the abrupt change in lighting.

He had no clue which way was up from there. The solid impact with what he presumed had to be either a large tree trunk or the ground itself, had jarred his teeth together and flung him under the console like a beanbag. Crammed into the small space nicely, he was forced to ride out the rest of the uncontrolled landing from the floor then the ceiling and then something slammed into his mouth. He tasted blood and boot leather, so he took that as a sign that Caldwell hadn’t been thrown from the ship.

The Jumper plowed through small trees and underbrush, shattered a few fragile shale type boulders and actually landed on a steep incline before coming to a jarring stop. When the ship stopped moving, Sheppard took a moment to assess his surroundings from the floor and then slowly crawled out from under the console where he'd been pinned by gravitational forces. Getting to his knees he peered out the windshield, noting the very sharp incline the cylindrical ship was perched atop.

"Oh crap," he muttered and, as if on cue, the Jumper began to slide to its starboard side, downhill in the shifting gravel. It hit something solid that could’ve been a rock outcropping and the ship listed and tilted sharply and then began to roll to the downhill side. "Colonel, hold onto something!!" John shouted, not knowing if Steven was even conscious. He could only hope as he dove toward the back, into the cargo bay, and grabbed the storage netting with both hands. He got slammed around as the Jumper rolled down the slope, picking up speed, before the roll slowed a bit and John realized they were suspended in the air. Hovering? 

No.  
Dropping…. 

Crap! 

The ship disappeared over the edge of a vast ravine and dropped six stories before clipping a rock ledge. Shattering the shale lip, the Jumper spun in mid-air like a rolling pin. With the inertial dampeners offline, the two passengers were tossed about inside, slamming into the hull and other objects inside the tiny ship. Sheppard wasn't aware of the final impact as the two men were rendered unconscious inside the shuttlecraft. Eighty feet below the surface the ship finally came to a halt on its side, but the cylindrical shape of the craft caused it to roll over onto its roof and the momentum pulled it all the way over to come to a final stop on its broad flat underbelly.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

# # #

Two hours later sound slowly came back to Caldwell's senses as a dull rumble that grew louder until it suddenly stopped, becoming a stillness that was very spooky. He felt his senses returning until finally his eyes slowly opened. He felt horrible to put it mildly and he blinked once, then again until his vision sharpened. The interior of the jumper was mostly dark, save for the dim emergency lights and the moonlight filtering in through the front viewport which was amazingly intact but littered with sand, rock debris and leaves. Caldwell took a few breaths, feeling small jabs of pain through his ribs as his lungs expanded then he began to slowly move, shifting so he could sit up and assess their situation.  
Caldwell's intrepid and heroic move, however, was brought to a screeching halt as the pain from his right leg blasted up into his spine, drawing a sharp sound of agony from his mouth, which in turn made the dull ache in his head erupt into a white hot spear that pierced his brain. The Jumper’s interior suddenly spun wildly, throwing off his sense of balance. His hand faltered on the bulkhead support and he collapsed back to the floor of the cargo hold with a thump, fighting the overwhelming urge to vomit as the visual anomaly stopped moving. He raised his hand slowly, fingers brushing the right side of his head above his eye and he felt a wet, sticky substance that only meant one thing...he was bleeding. Steven let his arm drop and exhaled through gritted teeth.  
"Sheppard..." The sound of his own voice startled him with its rough, dry tone and the volume brought into focus just how quiet it was inside the small vessel. How long had he been out? Was it night now? How long had he been unconscious? This wasn’t good. He coughed a few times, wincing with each spastic movement and then tried again. "Sheppard! You alive?" He could see the shape of the other man lying on the floor toward the front of the ship, face up, splayed out and not moving. “Sheppard?”

# # #

He was floating or sinking, maybe he was tumbling, he couldn't really tell. Maybe he was flying... or dropping... or flipping over.  
John groaned softly as awareness slowly came back to him. He was laid out on his back, arms flung out wide and breathing. Yep, he was breathing. What the hell happened? Another soft groan accompanied his exhaled breath, his fingers moved then his hand and then he was able to bend his arm. Limbs were moving… pieces were still attached; that was always a good thing.   
Sheppard assessed his condition slowly as his head swam in darkness, he didn't really feel like opening his eyes yet, he was sort of re-living a specific moment in Afghanistan when his Pave Hawk got shot down and slammed into a mountain; spinning out of control and sliding down the mountainside until it dropped off a ledge where it split in half on impact, throwing his crew to the four directions.  
Oh crap, he realized... they’d crashed. Not flying or floating or hovering... no, tumbling and tossing and falling and sudden impact and ... ouch.  
Slowly and with some effort, he rolled onto his side with a groan and finally became aware of a voice calling his name. Caldwell? Oh thank god.  
No, wait… he's going to kill me.  
"Colonel?" he groaned.  
Rolling onto his stomach, John rested his chin on the plated floor catching his breath. His head was spinning and throbbing and he just wanted to close his eyes and go back to sleep. The metal of the ship’s deck felt cool against his skin. The air around him felt as if he’d dropped into a sauna. The jungle, that's right. They’d crashed in the jungle... an alien, unknown jungle… full of alien unknowns too probably. Yeah, right, with my luck, there’s no probably about it, that’d be a definite.   
He opened his eyes and peered at the Jumper’s floor a foot in front of his nose before chancing a glance around, first moving just his eyes and then turning his head carefully. Moving slowly, John got up on his hands and knees and slowly sat back on his feet feeling a bit light-headed. His head hurt and he reached up to find a knot above his left temple and the tackiness in his hair told him he'd bled a bit. It had stopped though, so that was good. Looking down at himself he focused on all his parts... nothing felt broken. He stretched his back and then turned suddenly, realizing he'd heard the voice of his passenger.  
"Colonel?" he called. Spotting Colonel Caldwell lying in the rear of the Jumper, John crawled over to him. "Colonel Caldwell? You okay?" Noting the bloody lump on the man’s head he figured no, probably not.  
Caldwell let out a breath at the sound of Sheppard's voice and if a silent breath could sound relieved and irritated at the same time, Steven Caldwell could manage it. He knew he was in pretty rough shape but at least now Sheppard was also conscious. It wasn't much of a start but it was at least a start.  
“Colonel? Sir? You all right?” John asked as he came closer, crawling along the floor.  
"No," Caldwell replied, managing to sound angry. As if to emphasize his condition he coughed, turning his head to the side slowly to avoid the vertigo and tasted blood. "I am definitely not okay. What the hell happened anyway?" Caldwell asked, squinting at the silhouette that appeared above him as John crawled closer on his hands and knees. A silhouette was about all he could make out in the Jumper’s dim interior.  
“We, umm… we survived an uncontrolled landing,” Sheppard told him, looking at the ranking officer a bit abashed.  
“Is that your way of saying you crashed the Jumper and we’re lucky to be alive?” Caldwell retorted.  
John chewed on his lower lip. “Something like that,” he nodded.  
“Okay,” Caldwell stated from his supine position. “So why did we crash?”  
Sheppard settled back more comfortably on his knees just to the side of the Colonel's feet, scanning the other man for obvious injuries as he began to offer an explanation. "Well," he began, blinking against the mild headache that was starting, "the weather system that grabbed us was pretty intense. Unfortunately, our sensors didn't pick up any anomalies due to the Zirite interference. The speed of those winds simply overpowered the inertial dampening capabilities... and that's saying something. We got slammed by crosswinds, updrafts and downdrafts. I've never felt so many changes in wind direction that didn't produce a visible cyclonic system, but then again maybe it did and we just couldn't see it. Our instruments are so screwed up from the interference that, even if they had detected it, they might not have been able to alert us." John felt some stiffness seeping into his neck and shoulders, so he stretched a bit to try to keep his muscles from freezing up. He slid a little closer to Caldwell, looking somewhat pensive, then he ventured, "I should take a look... assess your injuries…."  
Sheppard had already ascertained in the few moments he'd been sitting next to the other officer that he had at least a minor head injury, that was obvious, and so was the odd deformity of his lower leg. The hitched breathing he observed and the use of extraneous muscles when breathing; especially while making minute adjustments to his position, told John that the colonel probably had bruised, if not actually broken his ribs. It'd been a long time since he'd been an active Para-Rescue Jumper but he didn't get through all that training by not paying attention.  
"Is it okay if I help you?" he asked before attempting to touch the other man.  
Knowing Caldwell had always felt himself to be more suited to be in command of the military on Atlantis than he was, always made Sheppard feel as though he had to prove himself as a competent officer in front of Caldwell. Although the two men had at least learned how to work together and Caldwell had too much class to outwardly sneer or harangue him over their opposing views; the kind of trust it took to allow another person to help you when you’re injured could be a touchy subject. John’s head was beginning to pound now and he looked up at the supplies strapped to the shelves behind him as he rolled his head back trying to ease the tension in his neck.  
"No, no... I got it." Caldwell waved one hand dismissively at Sheppard’s concern. He braced the other hand on the floor and tried to sit up. The sudden onslaught of pained ribs, vertigo and the slight shifting of his broken leg snatched a sudden sound from his lips... not a word exactly, but if it had been one it would most definitely have been profane.  
John watched as Caldwell tried to actually wave him off, as if he'd just simply smacked his funny bone on the end of a table. He wondered just exactly how much it would take before the Colonel would place any amount of trust in him. He focused more closely on Caldwell as he tried to shift himself unsuccessfully and ended up causing himself a lot of pain. John patiently waited for him to settle again and finally concede to letting him help. Caldwell slumped back to the deck, hurting and very angry at himself for being such a mess.   
"Fine, you can… assist me... but don't try to move me..." Caldwell ground out through clenched teeth, feeling the warm flow renewed and moving along the side of his head above his eye. His head wound had begun to bleed again and he closed his eyes and willed himself to not throw up.  
Sheppard reached out and pulled open the front pocket of Caldwell's vest, pulling out his field dressing. "Yeah, I won't try to move you... yet. That was one aspect of medic training they drilled into us. ‘Don't move the patient unless absolutely necessary and only after appropriate measures have been taken to secure all injury’," he told the older man with a small dry grin.  
Standing up, he reached over his head and grabbed the large medical pack, dragging it to the floor as he sat back down. Opening the pack, John found a pair of medical shears and used them to cut the long strips of cloth off the thick padding of the field dressing. Since the Colonel's head injury was a real bleeder John figured it'd take several strips of padded dressings to soak it up. Using a roll of medical tape, he carefully secured the thick pad to the injury. He'd save the long strips of fabric for securing the leg splint as soon as he could get out of the Jumper to find a couple of sticks or something. He didn't think there was anything on board that he could use for one and he made a mental note to request FracPacs to be stocked on all Jumpers in the future.  
"How’re the ribs? You look like you're having some trouble breathing." Sheppard disconnected the buckles of the man’s vest, reached around one side to unlace the cords holding the vest together, then unlaced the other side and pulled the vest off over Steven's head and put it aside within reach. He looked at Caldwell closely as if to ask, and Caldwell nodded permission to continue. John slowly unzipped the flight suit to palpate his neck, shoulders, ribs and torso.  
"They hurt, yeah... but I can breathe well enough." Caldwell winced and sucked in air as Sheppard checked for injuries with a soft touch, figuring out which ribs were cracked or bruised. John didn't see any evidence yet of abdominal bleeding or intense pain in the belly so that was good. He'd check that again later though.  
"I can wrap your ribs with an Ace bandage. It'll give you support, making it more comfortable to breathe and it should help you to move around if you need to. I want to splint that leg before I try to sit you up,” John informed him. “I need to get out of here first... find something outside maybe, to use as a splint."  
John looked around the interior of the Jumper, noting that the power was out except for two small emergency lights running on a power pack unit. Could be a cracked crystal, he considered and would check that out after he’d stabilized the Colonel’s leg. Retrieving a small object from the med pack, he turned to regard Caldwell seriously. "I have some morphine here. Have you ever had morphine before? Are you allergic to it or any other meds?" he rattled off out of habit. "It's either this or Tylenol and something tells me you're going to need something stronger than acetaminophen ---."  
Caldwell blinked and took a deep breath. "Just..!" The word came out a bit angrier than he wanted, but he was having some trouble reining in his feelings and the hissed word brought John up short. "Just… bind everything up and I can help you get me out of this thing. You… don't have to… do it alone. Okay?"  
Sheppard ignored the uneasy feeling that was stirring inside him. Caldwell had a manner that reminded John way too much of his disapproving father back on Earth. He shook off the urge to wince or cringe since disapproval was something he’d gotten used to long ago.  
“Yeah, I'll bind you up after I find a splint and secure that leg," John repeated. "Then we'll get you sitting up so I can bind your ribs. Don’t want you flat on your back for too long, you’ll end up with fluid in your lungs and that won’t be good either. As for getting out of the ship... we're not. I have no idea where we are or what's outside that hatch. This is the shelter we know and unless I find something a whole lot better out there we're staying put. You're staying put," he amended the last.  
Steven scowled at Sheppard, not used to being told what he would or wouldn’t do by a person of lesser rank. He couldn’t deny though that in this instance, the Lt. Colonel was in a better position to be in command at the moment.  
“So? How about it?” John asked, still looking at the vial in his hand. “You ever have morphine or any problems with taking it?”  
Caldwell gave a sharper shake of his head. "I've had it before with no adverse effects. Just don't overdo it. I don't want a fuzzy head right now. All right?" he said and John looked at him with a twisted expression.  
‘A fuzzy head?’ his thoughts echoed as he blinked at the bald dome. Then he shook himself from that humorous image, realizing that wasn’t what the Colonel meant. Steven caught the perusal and remarked sardonically, “I don’t want my thinking to get fuzzy.”  
Sheppard tossed him an odd look again. "Right, because you're thinking pretty clear right now...." he stated a tad sarcastically. His head was starting to pound and he pressed a palm against the knot on his head. Taking a deep breath John pressed the morphine metered-dose syringe against the Colonel's good thigh and held it in place for a few seconds to let it deliver the entire dose. "That should be enough to take the edge off. If you need more in a while I'll re-assess."  
Caldwell felt the cool water sensation in his leg and then it warmed up as it began flowing into his body from his thigh, spreading up through him with each heartbeat, pushing back the waves of pain for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. He felt his muscles relaxing with the ebbing of the pain and he settled back, letting his eyes drift closed partly as everything in his vision got a bit soft around the edges  
John watched him closely, waiting a couple of minutes for the pain medication to take full effect. When the Colonel’s eyes drifted half closed and his body visibly relaxed, John reached out and wrapped his fingers around the Colonel's wrist, counting out his pulse. Once he’d gotten a good read on his heart rate he then took a quick blood pressure. As he was doing that John realized he should've actually done that before administering the morphine but obviously he wasn't thinking too clearly either. He unhooked his canteen and shook out a couple of Tylenol from the bottle in the med kit before depositing it in his vest pocket. He popped the two pills for his own pounding head and aching muscles and guzzled the water. He offered the Colonel a drink and supported his head as he helped the injured commander take a long drink.  
"That's enough for now. Want to make sure you don't get nauseous from it. Don't need you passing out and throwing it up only to aspirate it while I'm out scrounging around." He secured the canteen and put it out of Caldwell's reach before going to the cockpit.  
After a few moments of moving around a few crystals in the "fuse box", as he liked to refer to it, the power came on strong for a brief moment then dimmed again. He moved to the rear hatch and hit the palm plate. It hummed, but didn't move. John pressed his hand against it and kept it there, leaning into it with frustration and then concentrated as hard as his throbbing head would let him.   
"Open, damn it!"  
As if on his command, the hatch whined and creaked and slowly opened. Caldwell watched from the floor behind him, unsure of what to make of this Ancient gene that Sheppard possessed. It still took a few attempts to coax the hatch all the way down into the ramp position but they worked as a team, as usual. Caldwell studied the younger man’s back as Sheppard leaned against the plate, murmuring under his breath as if talking to the ship and watching as the tiny shuttle slowly responded to him.   
Once the ramp was down, Sheppard complimented his ship for her cooperation and peered out into the darkness. He drew his pistol from his thigh holster and listened to the silence outside. Stepping out of the back of the Jumper he descended the ramp slowly, his pistol raised and all senses on alert.  
He used his pocket flashlight to illuminate the immediate area. All seemed quiet, so he circled the Jumper to check its condition and how she’d settled on the ground. One drive pod had popped out from the side of the ship on impact but they were sitting on solid ground and that was good.  
As he ventured a short distance from the Jumper’s port side, John noticed there was a light coming from above them and looked up to see the dense trees of the jungle high above. Immediately he looked down and began searching the ground for splint materials. With the high winds on this planet there just had to be sticks and branches down here that would have been strewn around in the frequent storms.  
A few minutes of searching the area of the underground cave yielded a great variety of timber, from kindling and tinder to start a fire to larger sticks and branches to make a splint and even a travois if needed. He returned to his patient who seemed to be resting more comfortably and began to splint the leg carefully. Normally it would be two people doing this, as John was well-aware, but he didn’t have an assistant available, so the task caused the leg to be moved and shaken more than it would have if he’d had assistance. Sheppard kept apologizing and cringing inside as he realized none of this was endearing him to the Colonel at all.  
Sheppard removed Caldwell’s boot and sock so he could keep an eye on the skin coloration over time, but the movements sent random jolts of pain through Caldwell's leg, dragging him part of the way back out of the morphine fog. Steven was aware of each tug and pull as Sheppard set and then tightened the splints... a few of the moves actually making Caldwell's entire body shift to one side or the other, drawing out a hiss of pain through clenched teeth or a bitten off curse, his brows furrowing as the pain returned.  
Once the leg was wrapped tightly and securely, John checked to see that he still had a distal pulse at the top of his foot, to be sure the splint or the break itself hadn‘t cut off circulation to the limb, then he helped Caldwell to sit up carefully. He wrapped the man's ribcage firmly, allowing for respiratory expansion then dragged him backward carefully to rest his back against the bench. John looked at the Colonel closely as he crouched beside him.   
"Hungry?" he asked.  
Caldwell settled against the bench, eyes closed tight to fight back the spinning sensation the movement had caused. The morphine made the discomfort a lot less severe than before but it was still there. He finally willed his eyes open and looked at Sheppard.   
"Yeah... I can eat. Or should I ask, can we?" He looked around the dimly lit Jumper slowly. "How are we set for supplies?"  
"We're good for now," John assured him. "We have three days worth of food and water, Power Bars and MRE's..." he sat back to count off by memory what he kept in the packs, "I figure the water in our canteens will last just under two in this heat but we’ve got two gerry cans… so I'll figure something out."  
He stood up to retrieve the rations kit and got up too fast, his vision blanking a moment, indicative of a head rush and he reached out to grab the shelf. A second later he was good as new and set the rations kit on the bench and sat down beside it, tossing a look to Caldwell sitting opposite him on the floor and watching him closely. He shuffled through the MRE packs, reading the labels.  
"You like beef stew... spaghetti..." John made a face, thinking that sounded nasty right about now although the stew made his stomach growl. "Chili with beans... no, no chili, thanks," he glanced down at the Colonel and tossed that pack back into the kit, "… chicken and rice, chicken tetrazzini… we even have hash browns with bacon or mashed potatoes with chicken gravy as a side." He was already holding the beef stew and chicken with rice packets up in front of him as he waited for an answer.  
Before Caldwell actually was able to grumble his choice, John got up and walked down the ramp. Looking up to the sky he saw that the brilliant blue had turned a deep purplish blue and the stars were beginning to shine through spots of the overhead canopy. It was time to make a fire.  
He thought he heard a sound, a shuffling in the shadows around him. John scanned the darkness of the cave again, certain he wasn‘t just imagining that something was moving around down here. He stood still and silent, frozen in place, waiting for it to show itself… whatever it was.  
Caldwell watched Sheppard for several moments before catching on to his actions. "What?" he asked in the lowest of tones; the kind that carried less than a whisper. He reached with his good hand, fumbling at the release of his holster and finally tugging the Beretta free, letting it rest on his lap as he gasped a few times from the effort. "Sheppard...what the hell are you hearing?" he hissed again, anger seasoning his words. John remained still for a moment longer before shaking his head and dismissing the sensation of being watched.   
“It’s nothing, Sir. I just thought I heard something. We’re okay,” he told the other man and then scooped up a bundle of twigs and branches and dropping them all a short distance from the ship.  
He built up a decent fire a few yards from the base of the ramp then prepared the chicken and rice dinner for Caldwell. When it was done he walked back inside, carrying the pot and stirring its contents carefully to be sure the heat permeated the entire dish and also to cool it enough to be eaten. After Caldwell had a small but decent meal in his stomach John would give him another hit of morphine to help him sleep through the night.  
Carefully handing Steven the small pot with the spoon, John then went back outside to prepare his own meal. He could've easily prepped his with the warming units provided with the MRE kits but he wanted to sit outside by himself and use the extra time quietly, to assess whether they were alone in here or not. Sheppard strongly sensed that they were not.  
Once his own meal was ready he moved back to sit down at the top of the ramp, close enough to Caldwell in case he needed anything, but far enough outside to keep watch.


	3. Chapter 3

<><><><>

Chapter Three

# # #

It was late morning as Rodney McKay made his way through the crowded streets of Yrsa, the primary city province located on the planet Ziya, officially designated P24-907. Sheppard's team had been on-world for the last two weeks negotiating trade agreements and had been handling the preliminary talks regarding possible alliances with the Ziya High Council. Teyla felt as if they had concluded the last round of meetings with the planetary High Council satisfactorily. In addition, with the Ziya government's permission, Atlantis had fielded a multi-focused science team to study numerous possibilities of interest to the Atlantis Expedition.   
McKay grinned thoughtfully, remembering the last brief conversation he’d had with Samantha Carter when Lorne had flown in additional supplies to the science team a few days previously. She was certainly excited about the numerous possibilities the mineral offered.   
Now Rodney figured he'd stop back in at the tavern-inn the team had made their meeting headquarters for the last two weeks, grab a meal, and write up his observations of the day’s work and meetings while they were fresh in his mind.   
People muttered and scurried around him as the wind hurled itself down the street, dislodging hats and sending debris flying down the alleyways only to slap and adhere to legs of passersby as they hastened about their business. It was nearing time for the Great Winds to start and the best information Rodney could gather was that these winds would make Earth's California Santa Ana's look like gentle breezes. It was definitely time to extract the science operations team and return to Atlantis while they got all of their reports and recommendations in order.   
Glancing up, his eyes narrowing against the fine dust being stirred up by the wind, he saw the sign for the Golden Arms and made a quick beeline toward it. Ducking inside the door, he glanced around the still sparsely occupied tavern and noted his teammates hadn't yet arrived. Heading for a table across the large dining room, he settled into a chair and dropped his pack at his feet. He had to use an old paper notebook and pen in order to record his observations and make notes since the Zirite mineral usually played havoc with their computers and other high tech gadgetry. Just as he got settled, a young woman appeared beside his table offering to take his order. He squinted as he looked at the chalkboard attached to the far wall that announced the day's menu.   
"Ummmm... I’ll take the Hunter's Stew, extra bread and two glasses of water," he said, placing his order.  
The thought of having another large mug of the locally brewed honey ale was incredibly tempting but the fact was that Lorne would be returning soon to pick them up and as one of the few members available who possessed the ATA gene, Rodney had to act as Lorne‘s defacto co-pilot and needed to have a clear head for the trip back up to the Daedalus.   
John had taken Jumper One back to the ship earlier to gear up for making the treacherous flight up to the science team's mountain camp, leaving Lorne to follow with the team in Jumper Two once they had settled the final arrangements in Yrsa.   
Leaning back in his seat, Rodney reread his meeting notes and began to jot his private observations in the margins, his brows furrowed in concentration. Ziya and its city-provinces, such as Yrsa, survived via a thriving agricultural trade, hunting, fishing, and back-country excursions. They were a peaceful world and the touchy subject of military technology had not arisen during the negotiations. Their interests lay more in the fields of advanced medical knowledge and technology, reciprocal agricultural trade and, perhaps a recreation agreement and a Stargate. The last item might prove problematical... but Rodney hadn’t written it off as impossible yet. He looked up briefly with a soft thank you as the server set his meal and two tankards of crystal clear, ice-cold water in front of him and opted to lay his notebook aside in favor of the hot, savory stew. 

# # #

Leaving Ronon to handle some last minute business of his own, Teyla returned to the tavern immediately after the dismissal of the meeting. Although her hair had been tied back, it still showed signs of windblown tangles, and her eyes were full of the fine dust that was easily kicked up underfoot.   
Reaching the heavy wooden doors of the inn, she pulled them open and darted inside as the strong easterly winds tried to push them closed. She slipped through with barely the skin left on her heels and offered a pleasant smile to the wait staff all of whom were looking at her curiously. Teyla gave a regal nod to assure them she was fine and they went back to their tasks.   
She listened as the great winds howled through the gaps in the windows as it whipped around the building outside. Straightening her bodice, she stomped her feet a couple of times to shake off the dust and to settle her pant legs over the tops of her boots. Once more smoothing her hair, she headed for the dining room where she had arranged to rendezvous with Rodney and Ronon.   
Entering the dining area she too noted that it was not yet crowded at this hour of the day and spotted Rodney straight away. He was nearly oblivious to her approach as he focused on the generous bowl of stew steaming beside him. The absence of technology did not seem to inhibit or deter him from recording his observations so Teyla figured this manner of recording was well known to him. He looked up as she approached the side of the table and offered her a hint of a grin.   
"Hello, Rodney. Am I interrupting?"   
"No, of course not," he replied absently.   
Teyla gave a facial shrug with an amused smile and turned to look over her shoulder. She lifted her hand gracefully and the hostess nodded an acknowledgment. As the woman neared the table Teyla asked, "May I trouble you for a bowl of this stew and a glass of water, please?" The woman again nodded with a warm smile and departed.   
Pushing his notebook aside to make room for her, McKay glanced around the slowly filling tavern. "Any thoughts or observations of interest?” he asked. “I haven't had much time to mingle with the locals."   
Teyla had to assume that even if he had found the time to mingle with the locals it would’ve been the last thing Rodney would’ve chosen to do voluntarily unless there was a specific and known benefit to doing so.   
"Well, I do like the natural spring waters. It is a little like 'lemonade'," she said the word carefully, receiving a slight snarl and a grumbled comment from her teammate who was mortally allergic to lemons and all manner of citrus. "I would not mind if we took advantage of trade opportunities to provide Atlantis with a regular supply for meals," she added with a smile. "As for the locals… I find the people here to be quite friendly and accommodating. They are clearly familiar with catering to off-world visitors from many cultures and their level of hospitality could easily account for the reason those on holiday often visited. “There are numerous outlets for shopping and trade. Some of them are of poor quality,” she admitted a bit reluctantly, “but many are of very fine craftsmanship and the sale prices are within reason.   
“The food is very good, quite palatable,” she continued and Rodney nodded agreement to that as he wolfed down another large spoonful of the stew. “They seem to be quite content with their lifestyle and limitations. They are a happy people,” she said smiling at that last, for she had become rather fond of the Ziyans in the short time they’d lived among them.   
“Perhaps they’re a happy race because they aren’t living with the constant threat of the Wraith,” Rodney suggested in a less-than-pleasant tone, which Teyla noted and rightly ignored.   
“Perhaps,” she agreed with a nod. “Without the Wraith threat they are able to apply their talents and attentions to more creative endeavors."   
Rodney nodded at Teyla's observations and then winced as the tavern door opened and the wind fought with Ronon Dex for the right to enter. The wind, however, had yet to learn that no one bests the great Satedan in a face to face match. Teyla smiled as she watched him bulldoze his way through the heavy doors and shake himself from head to toe like a giant bear, sending dust and debris bits into the air near the entryway.   
Ronon put his weight to the door and pushed it shut again against the near-gale-force winds then turned with an impish grin. His dreads were sticking up and out all over the place and he shook them out, sending a cloud of street dust into the air. He took a moment to pat down his heavy mane and secure it behind his shoulders with the thick band he often wore. Had he'd known the winds would come up like that he would've tied it back long before.   
The young barmaid could not hold back a soft snicker at Ronon's failed attempts to keep his dreadlocked hair under control. Her eyes glittered playfully at him. "You should have listened to me this morning, Ronon Dex. I warned you of the season‘s abrupt gales..."   
Ronon grinned at the pretty waif and shook out his long trench coat. He ordered ale and walked to the back of the room to the table McKay and Teyla had claimed. His heavy boots thumped against the wooden planks on the floor and his coat billowed out behind him with the long strides he took to the table. The barmaid was not far behind him and deposited his glass of ale on the table as he pulled out a chair and dropped into it.   
"Hey," he greeted his two teammates. The waitress returned with Teyla's order and Ronon took an interest in it, leaning forward to study the contents of the bowl. "That looks great," he stated and looked up at the smiling waitress. "We'll take two more of those," he told her and Teyla smirked at his appetite. "So when are we getting out of here? Are we meeting Sheppard at the other site or is he picking up the science team and meeting us back on the ship?" he asked, rattling off his questions before allowing Rodney or Teyla to answer. “We’re leaving with Lorne, right?” he asked. Reaching over to snatch up Teyla's bread, he broke a small piece from it and popped it in his mouth with a grin of thanks to her.   
Teyla chuckled lightly and responded to Ronon's questions in order, "We leave as soon as we've eaten and have gotten our gear aboard Jumper Two. We are to rendezvous with John on board the Daedalus once he has collected Colonel Carter‘s team, yes. He should be getting ready to leave the ship or is already in the air and on his way to pick up the science team."   
“Great,” Ronon muttered around a mouthful of meat and potatoes. 

# # #

907 Base Camp  
Mountain Range  
30km North of Yrsa 

Colonel Carter strode across the clearing that had, for the last two weeks, been the 907 team's primary location. It had been an interesting stay that was certain. They had known coming in that they would most likely have problems running many of their instruments. The notebook PCs, for instance, had proved largely unreliable so the team had taken to using pen and paper for making their notations. As such, Sam was carrying a clipboard in her hand as she left the command post tent striding toward the temporary lab.   
It was bare bones investigating. The more in-depth analysis would need to be done back on Atlantis but this had given them a good start. They now realized that Zirite was just as promising as their initial planetary scans had led them to believe. They had extracted samples of the mineral that were now encased in specially shielded carry containers so their elements wouldn’t inhibit ships’ systems for transport back. The cases were designed and reinforced to mask the effects of the Zirite. That, coupled with the fact they were taking back such a small amount, would hopefully ensure that it wouldn’t cause any problems with the systems aboard Jumper One or with the Daedalus once they arrived.   
Sam was looking forward to continuing the examination of this incredible natural resource and even writing her report about the Zirite. The possible applications of the mineral were extraordinary and numerous. While the City and the Puddle Jumpers already retained the ability to cloak, making them invisible to Wraith sensors, that capability was largely beyond the 302s and 304s. There was also other stealth technology that could be derived for functionality back on Earth and in aiding the SG teams in hostile environments or when needing to observe in stealth mode. In short, it was an exciting discovery.   
It wasn't the only amazing find that had been made though. Even while the rest of the science team was breaking down camp and preparing equipment to be transported back to the Daedalus, the lab was still up and running. Sam stood in the entrance of the large tent and frowned at Carson.  
"Doctor, I thought I told you two hours ago that it was time to wrap it up. Colonel Sheppard should be arriving any minute now to take us back."   
"Yes, yes..." Doctor Beckett nodded as his eyes barely moved away from the microscope to jot down a note. "I’m aware of the time, Colonel and we are working on it. I promise you." He never bothered to raise his head, or refocus his attention from where he stood bent over a microscope. While he adjusted the view through the lenses, his right hand was busy scrawling out notes.   
"You need to finish up what you’re doing, Doctor," Sam told him as she strode over to stand beside him. "I realize there is still much to be analyzed, but it will simply have to wait. Pack it up, Doctor, we're done."   
Even the civilian physician couldn't ignore the simple, stern warning that underlay her tone. Carson lifted his head and sighed.   
"Fifteen minutes?" he asked without much chance of hope.   
Carter turned and looked at him, rolling the options around in her head. "You've got five, Doctor. Make them count."   
“But that’s barely enough time to pack all this up,” he told her and Sam smiled at him before turning to exit the tent. Beckett sighed and shook his head. "All right, Lily, you heard the Colonel. Let's pack it in."   
He picked up his notes and clipped them together before storing them safely inside a large black plastic case. Then the two of them began carefully putting away all the specimens they’d collected and loading equipment into cases. They'd found within the mountainous jungle, any number of plants that could have significant medical applications and purposes. The Ziyans had most definitely not embellished the value of these indigenous plants. They'd even found a flower that, when broken down into its most basic form, could prove itself to be a very useful pain medication even more powerful than morphine without the addictive side effects. And that was not to mention the possibility of deriving new and powerful antibiotics from the many natural fungi they’d found growing abundantly in the rainforest.   
Carson almost didn't want to leave. Almost. The mosquitoes were the size of Great Danes, the humidity was almost stifling and it was going to take a week to heal all the bug bites he’d gotten. Yes, scientific excitement and medical discoveries aside, he was most definitely ready to leave.   
Carter's thoughts were running in much the same vein as Beckett’s as she stood outside with Zelenka, the two of them going through a checklist of equipment that was already packed, stacked, and ready for transport. She'd also asked him to move around the camp, taking a headcount. Before Sheppard arrived to take them home, she wanted to be sure that everyone was present and accounted for. So far, so good. Now they just had to wait for their ride to get there. 

# # #

Ronon finished his second bowl of stew and pushed it aside to grab his mug and down the last of his ale. McKay, who had finished his meal as well and had resumed recording his data then flipped his notebook shut with a snap.   
“When did you say we were leaving?” Ronon asked.  
“Right now,” Rodney said and gathered up his bag, securing it before attaching it to the vest clips on his shoulders. He headed to the bar to settle their tab for the week as his teammates went to the door to wait for him.  
When they’d first arrived as an expeditionary force and had decided the Inn was the perfect rendezvous location, McKay and Teyla had negotiated an exchange for acceptable local currency. By the time he'd paid for their stay, their meals, and drinks and the fee for the porter to help them get back to the area known as Yrsa Landing, both Ronon and Teyla were standing by the door waiting. Joining them, he paused long enough to wait for the boy who would be leading the pack animal for them.   
Stepping outside, Rodney winced as the wind whipped around them as if wanting to batter them back inside. As the gust abated, McKay looked to the Ziyan version of riding and pack animals, known on Ziya as Equinuus Renquin, simply renquin by the locals. They stood patiently with their backs to the wind and chuffed quietly as if talking to one another. Renquin were the size of Earth’s large draft horses, standing perhaps sixteen hands or slightly taller at the shoulder. Their short coats ranged in color from a dusty dun or reddish roan to a gray roan. Instead of manes, they sported an upstanding crest that ran from between their ears down their powerful necks. Large, powerful legs tapered down to tough, split hooves made for climbing rocky mountain landscapes. Like the horses with which he was more familiar, renquin all sported long, luxurious tails, which were at the moment tucked tightly to their haunches against the wind. Calm natured, although famous for their alertness to danger and somewhat more intelligent than horses, they seemed to be ideally suited for their use as pack, farm, and riding animals.   
Kyllan, the boy who’d acted as his and Teyla's guide around the city, finished strapping their packs along with their other gear to the red roan pack animal, picked up its lead and mounted his renquin. Ronon stepped up beside Teyla's mount to give her a leg up on her own red roan before returning to swing up onto his own dark gray dappled animal.  
The saddles they settled into closely resembled the Australian stock saddles used on horses. The bit-less bridles had caused Rodney to raise his brows at first, but they worked flawlessly on the big animals. It had been interesting to note that the saddles and bridles were made of a leather-type material that closely matched each animal's coat color. Kyllan had explained that when used for hunting in the mountains, it didn't break up the natural camouflage of the renquins' dappled coats.   
The boy urged his mount out onto the paved surface of the street with the pack renquin quietly following behind him. Glancing over to make sure Teyla and Rodney were ready to move out, Ronon set heel gently to his mount and followed them behind Kyllan. They kept to a fairly slow walk as they wound through Yrsa's city streets but as soon as they hit the trade route out of the city, Kyllan set the pace to a brisk canter. Each of the big animals followed without much urging, seeming to enjoy the faster pace. They were said to be able to keep at the amazingly comfortable, rocking canter for hours on end without tiring and their climbing prowess and agility when negotiating the mountainous terrain was legendary.   
Within half an hour, they had reached the huge clearing area known as Yrsa Landing. Several smaller ships were neatly docked there and their crews moved about the various vessels either loading trade goods or making certain all maintenance was in proper order. Kyllan slowed their pace to the renquin's springy, but still comfortable, trot as they threaded through the allotted parking spaces to where Puddle Jumper Two rested awaiting its passengers and cargo. Major Lorne strode down the Jumper’s ramp to greet them and helped Teyla from her mount.   
It took perhaps another half an hour to get all the gear and trade good examples safely stowed aboard the shuttle craft. Teyla paid Kyllan for his services, giving the boy several extra coins as he had been very helpful and knowledgeable as a guide without ever becoming intrusive. Promising to ask for Kyllan's services again should they return Teyla finally joined her teammates inside the Jumper, closing the hatch as she moved toward the seat behind the pilot.   
After three months of sharing duties flying back and forth between settlements and landing zones, McKay was becoming far more comfortable with flying the Jumpers so he assisted Lorne as co-pilot. He was by no means an expert, but had quickly gained a level of proficiency that would probably make Sheppard comfortable with him piloting in his stead, were that need to ever arise.   
The Jumper's engines powered up just as Major Lorne slipped into the pilot's seat. Calling back to his passengers, "Our next stop is the U.S.S. Daedalus. Please make sure your seats and tray tables are in their upright positions and fasten your seatbelts."   
Teyla and Ronon exchanged wry smirks, as that sounded like a comment Sheppard himself would make at a time like this.


	4. Chapter 4

<><><><>

Chapter Four

Carson wiped the back of his hand across his forehead as he dropped the final black case containing notes and other non-fragile supplies onto a stack of others, "Alright, that's all of it."   
"Good job." Sam looked up as she busily secured the last of her own gear and scanned the clearing. The tents had been taken down and all that remained were the sturdy black cargo cases and gear packs. Except for the spots where the grass was depressed, or worn from being walked across, it looked as if they'd never been there at all.   
The Colonel straightened and allowed her gaze to encompass the rest of the science team. They were all assembled, awaiting the Jumper that would take them back to the Daedalus. "Good job everyone," she said. "Our estimations from the last forecasts we received from the Daedalus indicate we've got at least three hours before the next weather cell moves in. This gives us a very narrow window of opportunity to get off this planet before we're potentially grounded for a good long while." It was exactly the reason the Daedalus had remained in orbit the entire time they were there, so the teams could be pulled off the planet at a moment's notice.   
"When Colonel Sheppard lands," Carter continued, "I want everything loaded quickly and properly secured and for us to be on our way in fifteen minutes. Is that understood?" There was a murmur of assent and she nodded. "Are there any questions?"   
"No, Colonel," Carson replied, as he seated himself on a stack of cargo cases to wait. It was still only morning, but it was already hot as all hell, reminding him of a summer he’d spent in Costa Rica, the year he’d graduated medical school. Now that was a wild time. Of course, there had been a beach… with cool water… and a hotel… with showers. "I think we've all got it, actually.“ He glanced at his wristwatch out of curiosity and was surprised at the time. "I think the good Colonel is running a wee bit behind schedule," he offered and Sam checked her own watch and smiled.   
"I think we can excuse him from being a few minutes late," she said, then added, "Just this once."   
Carson snorted just a bit. "Right, not like any of us are in a hurry to get back," he remarked, his Scottish brogue sounding strangely thicker when he was upset. The remark got him a few smirks and wry looks, considering that a few minutes ago he’d had to be pulled from his work. “What?” he snapped, “I want a hot shower... and a meal that doesn't taste like sawdust… and a coffee without grounds floating in it."   
Sam listened to his argument and then dropped down onto a nearby case herself to wait with him. "Air conditioning…."   
"A soft mattress," Carson nodded.   
"Chili cheese fries and a nice, cold beer," Radek added as he too pulled up a crate to wait.   
"Mmm," The doctor leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "A back rub wouldn't hurt to much either."   
"I think I'll settle for the beer," Sam said. She glanced down at her watch and frowned. Her eyes lifted, scanning the sky - or what she could see of the sky from the clearing, as the canopy around them was pretty dense. Over the last two weeks, they'd had to rely mostly on sound to inform them of the Jumper's approach. Now, all they could hear was the buzz and chirp of insects, and the occasional call of one type of animal or another. "Okay," she said. "He's officially late."   
"Aye," Doctor Beckett turned a sardonic look toward Sam. "And to think… you actually rushed me."   
Sam smirked. "You'll live."   
“Isn’t that just like the military to tell ye’ to hurry up and wait,” Carson muttered and received an amused grin from Radek.   
Sam looked at her watch again. By now, she thought, Rodney and the rest of the team should be returning to the ship on Lorne‘s Jumper. Impatience began to settle over her and she tapped her fingers against her leg as she looked up to the sky once again, scanning for the Jumper.   
"Okay John," she muttered, "anytime now..."   
"Aye," Carson leaned back where he sat, straightening his spine and wiping his sleeve over his face to dry the heavy layering of perspiration the humidity created even sitting still. "Anytime now would be great."   
Movement caught the doctor's eye, pulling his thoughts back from the image of a cool shower and a tall cold beer. He set that aside now, however, to focus on the reason for the distraction. Colonel Carter was on her feet and pacing, a small frown knitting her brow.   
Carson was sure that everything was fine. John was a more than capable pilot and he'd be there soon, he sincerely hoped. No doubt he'd simply gotten delayed and with the atmospheric disturbances and lack of communications between their camp, the ship, and the other team... Sheppard was simply unable to radio ahead and tell them he‘d be a little late.   
The flight, once they had battled their way clear of Ziya's atmosphere and the gale force winds, had been smooth and uneventful. McKay had pretty much held his breath until they broke into the peaceful darkness of space and moments later Lorne was bringing them unscathed into a smooth landing within the 302 hangar bay aboard the Daedalus. Under direction of the big Earth ship's flight command, Lorne rotated the Jumper’s position and settled it into its allotted space, furrowing his brows as he noticed the distinctive absence of Jumper One. Per their allotted time table, Jumper One should have been back aboard by now with the science team.   
"Jumper Two to the bridge," Lorne opened a channel as he rose from the pilot's seat, exchanging a concerned look with his other teammates. "Uh... has Jumper One not returned?" Evan almost felt stupid for asking, but there was always a remote possibility that Sheppard had chosen to dock Jumper One in the other hangar bay for unknown reasons.   
"This is the bridge, welcome back," Major Marks’ voice floated across the comm-link. "That's a big negative, Jumper Two. Colonel Sheppard and Colonel Caldwell are overdue… and as you know..."   
"The mineral makes ship to ground communication iffy to impossible," Lorne finished the statement with a nod. "Wait,“ Lorne commented, confused. “What do you mean Sheppard and Caldwell?”   
“Colonel Caldwell accompanied Colonel Sheppard on the trip back to Ziya. I guess he just wanted to get a look at something besides the blackness of space for a bit.”   
Lorne frowned, his eyes strafing the hangar bay as if he could manifest the other Puddle Jumper if he willed it hard enough. He exchanged another concerned look with his passengers and gave a slight nod. There was no other option. While it was likely that Jumper One was simply delayed by the weather or the team hadn't been quite ready to be evacuated and was still loading up and without communications to confirm that, they needed to return to Ziya and verify. At once, Teyla and Ronon began off loading their gear and the other items brought back from Ziya while Rodney stepped a few feet away to bring up some information on his laptop.   
"Marks, we need help unloading and refitting the Jumper for a return trip. We can't take the chance that Jumper One is just delayed," Lorne's voice had gone serious and focused.   
"Roger that, offloading team on its way." Almost before Marks’ voice faded, the hangar doors opened and several crew men and women set to finishing up the unloading and then re-stocking the Jumper with first aid kits and supplies.   
Rodney walked over to Ronon and Teyla. "We have maybe twenty minutes before the crew can get the Jumper ready to leave again.”   
“Okay, take that time to do what you need to. You have exactly twenty minutes,” Lorne told them and the three hurried off to clean up and re-supply their personal stocks in case the worst case scenario came to pass and it turned out to be a rescue mission.   
“Let’s get cleaned up and meet back here in fifteen," Teyla advised, receiving nods from her teammates.   
Fifteen minutes later, Rodney returned to the hangar having taken the fastest shower he could, changed into clean BDUs and firmly tried to put his fears aside... for the science team, for John and Caldwell… and for Sam. Setting his jaw and putting the fear on hold for the job at hand, he was reaching for his comm-link when Teyla and Ronon arrived.   
"Let's do this," Ronon stated and led the team back aboard Jumper Two where Lorne was prepping the ship for their return to Ziya.   
By the time Lorne had negotiated the winds buffeting the flight zones into the science team's base camp he had convinced himself that they would find Jumper One with John and Colonel Caldwell waiting safely on the ground, delayed by nothing more than getting packed up and getting back out. Unfortunately, he was able to see that that was not the case as he eased Jumper Two down into a clearing barely large enough to accommodate the sleek Ancient ship.   
The sound of a Jumper finally approaching the base camp stopped Sam in her tracks. She turned, casting her eyes toward the sky once more. She watched as it lowered gracefully, impulse engines whining as it settled slowly and gently into the grassy clearing. Relief began to settle over her… delayed, just as they'd thought, or rather hoped. With a smile already blossoming, she began to stride toward the ship, intending on giving John a good ribbing for being late, and causing the worry he had.   
As the hatch lowered and Rodney stepped out, one hand on the P-90 he'd picked up as he moved toward the exit, that leaden feeling of fear started to resurface.   
'At least one worry could be laid to rest,' McKay thought as his sharp blue eyes sought out and found the science team milling around with his beautiful Samantha Carter striding toward him with a relieved smile on her face .   
"Sam!" Rodney called out, as he moved across the clearing to meet her, feeling Ronon and Teyla close on his heels. "What happened? Why is your team still here? Where's Sheppard?"   
Colonel Carter's smile immediately faltered and disappeared. She came to a stop a couple of steps away. "What do you mean, ‘where's John?’" Dread began to rise up again, drying out her throat and leaving an awful, bitter taste in her mouth. "He was supposed to be here quite a while ago. When I saw the Jumper, I just assumed there was a delay. We haven't seen him or Jumper One since his last supply run."   
She cast her gaze quickly inside Jumper Two. The cargo hold was empty of supplies that they would have been carrying if Lorne had flown here straight from the city. This told her they had already been aboard the Daedalus and refitted. Straightening, Sam set her jaw against the worry filling her.   
"Let's get everything on board," she suggested and, by that time, the others had joined them, circling around the group standing at the mouth of the shuttle's rear entrance.   
"What's going on?" Doctor Beckett asked, concern filling his eyes at the worried looks the others were displaying. "Where's Colonel Sheppard?"   
"That seems to be a pretty popular question," Sam said quietly. She continued to stare intently into Rodney's eyes, before she finally turned back to the rest of her science team. "Okay people, let's get everything loaded. Double time it!" Zelenka and Pryce immediately moved to begin gathering supplies and carrying them into the Jumper. Sam turned back to Lorne and the others. "We need to get back to the Daedalus. I'll talk to Colonel Caldwell and we'll start organizing a search team."   
Major Lorne shook his head and informed her of what he knew. "According to Daedalus, Colonel Caldwell is aboard Jumper One with Sheppard. It was a last minute decision... he wanted to stretch his legs, I guess."   
While letting this news sink in, Lorne glanced around for his team. Ronon was busy, helping the team load their gear and supplies aboard Jumper Two. Teyla stood nearby; on alert and watching their backs her worry not far from the surface. She’d paused as she followed Rodney out of the rear hatch of the Jumper as she overheard the conversation. She had also been concerned when John's Jumper was not seated peacefully in the clearing and waiting out the windy weather in the safety of the Science Team's camp. Resisting alarm, she had hoped that perhaps John had for some reason, perhaps maybe occupancy considerations of the limited area, returned to the Daedalus and left part of the Science Team here for a second run.   
Emptiness now sat behind her ribs as she heard from Colonel Carter that John had never arrived at all. Realizing the true urgency of the situation, she increased her pace to help get all the equipment and supplies loaded into the Jumper. It felt as if she’d been hit hard, having the air pushed forcibly from her lungs. It took another moment, maybe even two for her to feel able to breathe again. This wasn't the first time he'd been in danger and honestly they didn't know that he was in danger even now. Getting upset would be jumping to conclusions and that never served a proper purpose. She offered instead, words to comfort the others.   
"John is a very capable pilot. If they were unable to reach the camp from their intended flight path, he may have been forced to land until the weather cell has passed. He would not risk his passenger or his ship unnecessarily. I'm sure they are both fine.“   
“When we get back to the Daedalus I will coordinate staff and get emergency supplies rounded up and ready to go," Beckett added. "We'll probably need them. If those two are in any way stranded together, they're going to end up strangling each other. I'm willing to open a wager on who makes the first lunge."   
Still smiling at them, the doctor stepped back and turned; quickly striding away to help the others load their gear into the back of the Jumper. It was as he turned that his smile melted away, simply unable to sustain it any longer as his fears for the safety of the two missing men rose.   
Ronon continued to pick up and toss equipment into the Jumper's cargo bay and the people inside had quite a time keeping up with his throwing arm. All he wanted to do was pack up and get off this rock so he could start searching for Sheppard. At one point he tossed a small plastic case without focus and it bounced off Radek's shin. An exclamation of surprise, a backward hop, and a mumbled line of cursing in Czech brought Ronon's attention back to the situation at hand and he refocused his attention.   
"Sorry," he offered and Zelenka's expression told him it was fine and that he understood the big man's worry.   
As Rodney turned away from the others and walked toward the Jumper, Ronon paused in his work to put his hand on the man’s shoulder in support. They were all concerned and he understood how strong those emotions could get when anxiety was allowed to grow and expand and turn concern into fear and then into panic. He offered a smile of understanding and nodded, letting the scientist know he wasn't alone in his feelings of concern.   
"We'll find them," Ronon told Rodney and McKay nodded although he wasn’t so sure. Sam understood, she’d been there too, numerous times. They all had, she figured, at one point or another.   
"Let's get back to the Daedalus," she said somberly.   
Ronon's attention went to Sam's order and he ushered team members onto the Jumper. He wanted to tell her he'd stay and begin the search but he knew that would only cause confusion and on foot he'd be slower and out of contact with other searchers.   
As much as he hated the thought, he had to go with them. He had to leave them behind. That thought did not sit well with him at all… having to leave John behind.   
‘Just for now‘, he vowed in silence. ‘Just for a little while, but we’ll be back. I promise.’


	5. Chapter 5

<><><><>

Chapter Five

# # #

Rodney let out the breath he hadn’t been aware that he was holding as Jumper Two finally settled gently onto the hangar deck aboard the Daedalus once again. Their initial search of Ziya’s wilderness offered little as leads to finding their missing people.  
Hours had been wasted in battling the downdrafts, wind shear, and multi-directional cross currents in a futile effort to backtrack Jumper One’s last possible trajectory from their window in orbit based on their pre-planned flight path. Some of the team had spotted damaged foliage across the top of the jungle canopy but could not state for certain whether the damage was from a possibly downed Jumper or from a recent wind storm. The longitude and latitude were marked before they began another search loop further out, still hoping to crisscross Jumper One's path.  
At one point a vicious downdraft had caught Jumper Two and slammed them down hard, almost sending the small ship into the tree tops. At the same moment, the radiation emanating from the Zirite buried in the planet's crust had caused instrumentation to go crazy and then offline altogether. Lorne literally didn’t know how he managed to keep Jumper Two aloft but felt he owed it more to luck than any skill he'd acquired during his intensive flight training over the years. It also proved to him and the others on board the shuttlecraft, that it was quite plausible that Sheppard’s Jumper could’ve suffered the same, but worse, fate.  
It had been with great reluctance that Lorne informed Sam an aerial search just wasn't feasible in those conditions and they would be forced to consider doing a ground search and rescue operation. There had been a short discussion but all arguments eventually agreed in the end. They were going to have to return to Ziya and request permission to outfit a team for a ground search.  
McKay rose from the co-pilot's seat, still a bit shaky from the several close calls they’d had during the initial search. He winced as weary muscles complained when he reached into the netting at the rear of the Jumper for his gear pack and then followed Sam and the team out to the hangar deck. He stopped next to Sam, getting a slight smile and a pat on his arm in understanding.  
"Look, people," Sam said, glancing around to include Ronon, Teyla, and Carson, "we're all worried about Colonel Sheppard and Colonel Caldwell... but we won't find them if we're so exhausted we make mistakes. I'm calling a five hour break.” That got a very loud grunt and a chuffed comment from Ronon who was readily placated by Teyla’s hand on his arm. “During that time I want each of you to get a quick check up in the Infirmary for clearance. I'll put together the ground search and rescue team once I get myself cleared." Sam paused, looking to each of them. "Don't worry, we won't quit. We don't leave people behind. We just need to make sure we're at our best when we go back out. The ground team will consist of me, Major Lorne, Rodney, Ronon, Teyla, and Dr. Beckett. Carson, please get yourself checked out by one of the ship's doctors and then, if you could, help see to our people as well. Back here in five hours, kitted out for a jungle search and rescue, probably going in on horseback... so to speak.” She looked around at the group to be sure they understood and then released them, “Dismissed."  
As the others headed out to do her bidding, Sam touched Teyla on the arm and pulled her aside. "As soon as we land on Ziya, I need you to head for the consulate and get us cleared for whatever we need to put together the search team."  
Teyla nodded, "Understood. We have a good relationship with Prime Minister Drayjin. I don't think he'll put up roadblocks for a humanitarian mission and he may even offer assistance. Ronon is an expert tracker and hunter, plus he's made numerous contacts amongst the locals. I am sure he can scare us up a guide for our trek into the mountains."  
“Good call,” Sam nodded. Then they turned and as they walked out of the hangar, both were quiet, worrying for their missing teammates.

# # #

“Sheppard, what the hell are you hearing out there?”  
John had heard the Colonel's question and he didn't blame the guy for being a bit tense. Being dependent on someone you barely trust, injured beyond the ability to fend for yourself and trapped in an alien place with lots of unknowns sure wasn‘t the most comforting of circumstances. He was pretty certain his own voice had held the same sense of barely-held-in-check panic as he realized he was losing control of the ship with Caldwell on board. He scrubbed at his face, the short beard making his skin itch. John figured it’d be easiest to just not acknowledge the other man's fears. He had them as well.  
“It’s nothing,” he said softly. He didn’t have to raise his voice to be heard, even from yards away, since the acoustics of the cave amplified every sound.  
John turned his focus to collecting more twigs and branches for the fire. He’d already collected a large stack but it served two purposes aside from merely storing reserve fuel. It gave him a reason to walk about and get a little exercise to stretch stiffening muscles and it allowed him to search the larger area of the cave that lay further away and not easily seen in the dark. He paused a few times as he crouched down to pick up a branch. He’d freeze with the air caught in his lungs, completely silent and alert and his hand would slowly move to his holstered sidearm.  
Caldwell sat inside the Jumper’s cargo area trying to hear Sheppard’s movements and judge his whereabouts. He hated being useless to help out but what he hated even more was knowing something was not right and being protected from that knowledge. He tried to push himself toward the open hatch so he could get an idea of their situation. After a few painful inches of shifting Steven stopped when Sheppard suddenly appeared outside the hatch again.  
John set to building a fire and tossed a few more branches on the young flame before standing up to stretch his back again. Caldwell sat there for several minutes, shifting back and forth without being able to get comfortable, or rather unable to feel comfortable. Finally he sat up in frustration and called out heatedly. "Sheppard! Help me come out there. I want to get some air... sit by the fire. Just... something!"  
"I'd rather you not be out here just now... Sir," Sheppard replied without turning around or even raising his head. He was staring into the darkness toward his two o’clock position. He could hear it, barely. John figured if he kept watching that area he'd see the glint of its eyes reflecting the fire’s light. He had no idea what it was but its movements gave the impression that it was big and either stalking him or as afraid of him as he was wary of it. John hoped for the latter.  
Time inside the cave seemed to drag on through the day. The constant darkness lent to the illusion that it was always nighttime but even now the sun was just beginning to hang low enough toward the horizon to turn the sky a pretty purple. John looked at his watch and let out a weary breath to see that nine hours had passed and he was truly ready for rest.  
He took care to heat up a couple more MREs and served Caldwell first to allow the man the opportunity to eat casually as he heated his own. By the time they were done he’d be set to give another dose of morphine to his patient and that should help him rest comfortably through the night.  
John sat at the top of the ramp again, splitting his attention between his meal and the sounds in the dark. He ate his own MRE slowly and it was late into the afternoon before the sounds stopped and didn't return. He finally stood up slowly and turned around to retrieve Caldwell's pot and spoon, since the other man was sitting only three feet from the hatch. Returning to the fire, John dug a small hole in the dirt and used a bit of water to make a little mud. He used the gritty moist soil to scrub out the two pots then swished them with some water from the canteen, dumping the dirty water and food bits into the hole he'd dug and then filled it in to cover the odor of tasty morsels so as not to attract any of the wildlife he knew was lurking in there with them.  
Returning to the Jumper he pulled out the med pack and counted the metered syringes of morphine. Nine left. John took one and spun around on his knees. He regarded the injured man for a moment and then put his hand on Caldwell's forehead. His skin was a bit warm and moist but that was to be expected. He wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Steven’s bicep and pumped it up, watching the gauge carefully as he let the air escape and, in turn Caldwell watched him closely as he worked.  
He hadn’t a clue that Sheppard had any medical background and for a pilot to be medically trained as well, Steven found himself wondering just what kind of background the younger man had that he didn’t know about. John took his vitals and propped him up with a cushion to use as a pillow before administering the dose.  
Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he pressed the syringe to the Colonel's leg. "That'll get you through the night," he stated, his own voice gravelly from exhaustion and dehydration. Then he turned to grab a blanket to cover him with. “It should anyway.”  
Caldwell grunted at the touch of the needle, relaxing into the cushion as the influx of painkiller allowed his pain stiffened muscles to release their tension. He settled back into a more comfortable position, and his voice got progressively softer as he said, "You need... to tend... to... your... self… too." His eyes rolled a bit and the lids fluttered as if under a sudden weight then dropped closed and his breathing evened out, becoming shallow as exhaustion and injuries took their toll on him.  
John watched him for a moment without saying a word then he draped the blanket over Caldwell making sure he was properly covered. He watched him with serious eyes until he was sure Caldwell was asleep and then grabbed a P-90 from the shipboard rack. He checked its magazine and slapped it shut before going to the hatch again to sit on the ramp with his back against the edge of the hull.  
He took a quick sip of water to wash down the dinner he’d had and to moisten his throat so he wouldn't keep coughing or feeling the need to clear his throat as it felt dry and raw. He wanted Caldwell to get as much rest as possible; that was most important for his continued survival right now and all Sheppard had to do was keep away the animals so he could do that.  
He looked over his shoulder at the other man and hoped the Colonel would be able to sleep through the night. If he did, then John figured maybe he'd be able to let him help keep watch during the day tomorrow; not only to preserve some of the man’s dignity but to allow himself to get some decent rest too. If push came to shove in this cave he was going to need his strength and his wits to defend his injured partner.  
Partner.  
Wow. There was a word he never thought he’d put to Steven Caldwell.  
John turned his head to look at the other man again. So much like his own father he was, Sheppard thought with a frown. But, he wasn’t much different from most of the men he’d known that had been in authority positions over him his entire life.  
The only command officer he could remember having in many years that didn’t actually treat him with animosity was Colonel Miller when he was stationed at McMurdo. But then again, he’d figured, the Antarctic base wasn’t the post of choice for most military personnel. McMurdo was mainly for scientists and researchers… and those pilots and personnel who’d been banished from the mainstream military ranks. McMurdo was considered exile by some… but he hadn’t minded it at all. Perhaps that was why Miller had accepted him without contention. At his court martial, the judgment had been that although he’d disobeyed direct orders and needed to be reprimanded, Captain Sheppard’s actions that day had saved lives and had returned those personnel to safety along with the sensitive information they’d obtained during their secret mission. His actions had earned him a promotion to the rank of Major as a bribe to keep his mouth shut regarding what he’d learned in the course of recovering the doomed unit and their highly classified cache of information. The fact that he’d gotten himself involved in that situation against orders and had essentially destroyed the government’s plan to use plausible deniability as a defense to cover up any knowledge of the special secret operation behind enemy lines was the only thing that saved him from doing time in Leavenworth. He was instead exiled to McMurdo Station to make an example of him. Colonel Miller was aware of the extenuating circumstances in Sheppard’s reassignment but not the details, leaving an air of mystery surrounding the young pilot. He gave Sheppard his daily assignments and mostly left him to his own devices and John liked it that way.  
He dozed on and off for ten minutes at a time, his head slowly dropping forward before jolting awake just as he started seeing images of dreams. People he knew appeared before him, calling out his name and scolding him, ordering him to stay awake and to get them out of here. People from his past, looking angry or disappointed, shaking their heads and accusing him of never being good enough, telling him he was unworthy. John jolted again, nearly dropping the rifle but caught it and shook his head vigorously. He pressed his finger and thumb into his burning eyes and then shifted to sit himself up a bit straighter.  
Caldwell moved in his sleep and John turned to look at him. He watched as Caldwell‘s head turned in small jerky motions a few times, his forehead and face covered in beads of sweat. His eyes darted around under his closed lids several times and he occasionally let out short noises, not really words as such, just... sounds. John watched him, knowing how he felt and understanding the odd things that injury and sedatives do to the system. He felt it too. He’d gotten off easier in the crash but his entire body ached deep to his bones and his head throbbed from the knot hidden under the frazzled cowlicks atop his head.

# # #

Steven’s eyes popped open suddenly; it was dark inside the cave and difficult to follow the timeline. He didn’t realize it was still early evening above them on the surface but it felt like the wee hours of the night in the darkness of the cave. He looked around, panting a bit under the strain of the medicinally induced dreams. He blinked and wiped at his face until his still foggy mind slowly caught up with his senses. Taking a full breath he felt the dull edges of the pain but not the sharp waves of agony from earlier. He glanced around in the quiet darkness and then turned his head to look to the rear of the Jumper. He saw Sheppard sitting at the top of the ramp, his head dipping forward, eyes closed as he dozed, the P-90 cradled across his lap.  
Caldwell let out a frustrated breath and slowly shifted his position. A few careful moves and he turned himself around, getting close enough to the ramp until he could reach Sheppard and his hand closed on his shoulder. "Sheppard, damn it, you need to rest too... help me sit up here at the ramp."  
As the hand came down on his shoulder and the voice, unfamiliar to his sleepy brain, penetrated his thoughts, John jumped. His head snapped up and before his eyes even focused he tried to make sense of the darkness in front of him and the orange glow of a fire. His hands gripped the P-90 hard as he shifted to raise it up as if to target but didn't get far. Caldwell slapped his hand down gently on top of the rifle to ease him down from his waking dream. John felt the pressure on his weapon and looked down as he blinked to clear the visions of his dreams. There was a hand that wasn’t his own folded over the top of his rifle and he looked over his shoulder to see Caldwell right behind him.  
Steven simply looked at Sheppard up close and held onto the weapon until he was sure his watchman was fully awake. John looked at him closely, taking in the sight of him. He reached behind him to pull up a corner of the bloody bandage on the Colonel's head, not that he had to actually touch it to see that it was soaked. He’d reached out for it more to cement in his mind that what he was seeing was real and was now.   
"I’ve got to change that," John told him and Steven reached up to see what he was talking about. The squishy feel of the saturated dressing was apparent and he gave a nod. "How's the leg?" John asked, looking down at the splinted limb.  
Caldwell shrugged. "It aches, but I can deal with it..."  
John nodded. "I’ve got to get the kit," he told Caldwell and glanced over his shoulder into the darkness of the cave. Opting to leave Caldwell armed at the entrance as he fetched the first aid kit; John carefully set his assault rifle on Steven's lap and made sure the safety was on. "Here, you've got watch until I'm done," he told him.  
Caldwell settled down as he cradled the P-90 looking out past the ramp and the fire, to the trees and brush showing as silhouettes above them against the darkening starlit sky above. The act of keeping watch actually helped him to focus a bit and to not dwell on how much he actually did hurt.  
John stood up and grabbed the pack from the other bench and flipped it open. His eyes automatically took inventory again and he spotted the bottle of water he'd opened earlier and tossed back into the case to keep it out of Caldwell's reach. "How're you feeling?" he asked openly, then handed him the bottle of water. "Drink slow," he told him and rested a palm on the Colonel’s sweaty forehead and sighed slightly. Caldwell batted his hand away lightly and leaned his head to the left.   
“Would you stop doing that?” he asked harshly. Sheppard just looked at him with a scowl but didn’t say anything.  
As Caldwell nursed the water still cradling the P-90, John removed the soaked dressing from his head and shoved it into a red bio bag he’d gotten from the kit. Picking up a white hand towel he took the water bottle from Caldwell and dampened the towel before handing the bottle back. He used the towel to carefully wipe some of the sweat and drying blood away from the wound, not only to cool his fever a bit but so that the next dressing would stay put. The bleeding seemed to have slowed quite a bit so Sheppard opted to use a couple of 4”x4” dressings stacked and then taped them in place.  
"You're lucky you have no hair," John offered with a tired grin as he finished, pressing his thumbs lightly on the tape to ensure it would stick.  
Caldwell's eyes narrowed, thinking the comment was probably Sheppard's idea of a joke. "At least it's better than the Bart Simpson look," he said, firing a tight grin back at him in the dim light.  
John's eyes shot to the Colonel in surprise then tried to keep down a grin. His eyebrows lifted as if shrugging and he continued to work on the dressing with a quiet, "Touche'."  
Sitting back on his heels, he checked the pulse on Caldwell's injured leg and found it still strong, which meant his splint was doing its job and wasn't harming or impeding circulation. He broke open an icepack and carefully laid it within the splint straps to help with any swelling and to numb any pain in order to hold off on another morphine dose as long as possible. He had no idea how long they'd be down here and he had to make the meds last, just in case.  
John doused the towel again and wiped down Caldwell’s head and face lightly and Steven watched him the whole time. John Sheppard was an unusual officer, he could see that clearly now. His eyes stayed on John’s face the entire time he tended to his wounds and then the cooling wipe down before John draped the damp cloth over his neck for him to do as he pleased with it.  
"You sure you want to sit up at the edge here?" Sheppard asked.  
“Yeah,” Caldwell nodded sharply then winced. "Yeah, yeah... I don’t do the resting thing very well when there‘s things to do. It hurts too much to sleep anyway."  
John helped Caldwell to spin himself around, moving the splinted leg carefully as the Colonel shifted his body so that he was finally resting across the opening of the hatch, his back leaning on the edge of the door. Once he was positioned, Sheppard simply looked at him for a few seconds as he crouched beside him then he grabbed the used dressings and walked down the ramp to toss them into the fire. Caldwell watched him silently and agreed with the action. It was never a good idea to keep the scent of fresh blood in a camp site, especially with injured personnel in camp and unknown predators in the area.  
John stood beside the fire, scanning the darkness around them before returning to the Jumper. He sat down opposite Caldwell and mentioned quietly, "It'll be dark soon."  
Caldwell nodded slowly, his mind working over their situation. "Okay, so the sun goes down… what do we do then? Flares? Signal fire? Try to get a radio working?"  
"Well," John began as he settled down to get as comfortable as he could leaning up against the bench behind him, "flares are better being used at night, especially with the density of the trees but only if we know somebody’s looking or we get a specific sighting of a flyover. Daylight and flares when nobody's looking is a wasted effort not to mention a waste of resources." He folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes as he continued. "Radios won't work, at least over a distance if any of that Zirite material is in the area," he reminded the other officer, not knowing they were completed surrounded by Zirite, actually sitting in a mountain bed of it. "A signal fire would work, except that we're basically sitting in a pit so nobody will see it unless they‘re directly overhead and looking down… way down. My estimations are that we’re about eighty feet below the surface. I'll try to find a way out of here in the morning, see what I can do..."  
His words trailed off as exhaustion pulled him under and a heavy sleep took over. Caldwell nodded as he took in what Sheppard said then he turned to speak but stopped when he realized that Sheppard was fast asleep. Caldwell studied him for a moment and gave a slight grin. He sat up straighter, blinking a few times and making his eyes go wide before settling back to keep an eye on their little camp while Sheppard dozed.


	6. Chapter 6

<><><><>

Chapter Six

# # #

Golden Arms Tavern, 1700 hrs  
Yrsa Province, Ziya

Colonel Carter’s search team returned to Ziya just before sunset. They would have to wait until morning to begin their search since the planet’s day cycle was so much shorter than Lantea’s twenty-seven hour cycle. Here, the sun was up for less than ten hours and the nights lasted for more than twelve. It was just about five o’clock in the afternoon and the sun was low on the horizon.  
The team had set up their command center at the Golden Arms Tavern and Inn once again. They were going over their information and making plans since they now had the night hours to coordinate their efforts. Sam stood at the table with one foot set on top of the end of the bench as she looked at the team gathered around.  
"Assuming any of their supplies survived the crash… and with their combined experiences in combat and wilderness survival," Carson said quietly, "I’m estimating that they could survive for," his lips pursed, "maybe a week to ten days. When you begin to factor in injuries and the conditions here, including the heat and their potable water supply, that time starts being reduced incrementally. Add in their training and experience… and Colonel Sheppard's ability to crash well, I'd say we’ve got four days before we're looking at critical circumstances."  
"That was my thinking too," Sam said quietly and twisted slightly to drop down onto the bench. She leaned forward, hands wrapped around the coffee cup which now rested on the table's surface. "Major Lorne? When Ronon returns, I'd like you or Teyla to accompany him to procure the supplies we'll need. The rest of us will get the renquins ready to move out."  
Evan nodded and made a mental inventory of the supplies they already had from the Jumper. He'd had to rough it himself on numerous occasions; it was part of being a military combatant. He’d once spent some months in the jungles of South America so he had a decent idea what supplies they’d need to be properly equipped for this excursion. He'd need some pointers though regarding the peculiarities on Ziya since neither he nor Sheppard had had the opportunity to spend a whole lot of time on the planet‘s surface during the two week stay.  
"I suggest we regroup here in the morning for breakfast and then get started right after. We can use the rest of the evening to collect our supplies, find our guides and then everyone gets a good night’s rest.” Lorne made his suggestion, received a nod from Sam, and then everyone else nodded their assent as well. With that, the group stood and went their separate ways as each one had their own tasks and agendas.

# # #

Jumper Crash Site, 2050 hrs  
Volga Mountain Range,  
Ziya

John stirred finally from his deep sleep. He'd been dreaming many things in the four or five hours he'd been asleep and Colonel Caldwell had watched him closely as he verbalized unaware. He'd also given Steven a few things to consider while he sat alone in the cave keeping watch, splitting his attention between the outside cave and Sheppard's restless sleep.  
His eyes opened slowly and he stared at the metal floor, blinking slowly as sleep tried to release its tight hold on his brain. His head ached and he slowly became aware of that fact as he looked around the cabin of the crashed ship.  
"Holland?!" John suddenly called out with a jolt and his shout caused Caldwell to nearly jump out of his skin.  
"Sheppard!" he hissed back and John's head spun around. "You're dreaming," he told the younger officer.  
John blinked at him, his mouth slightly agape as his eyes scanned the injured man, taking note of the splinted leg. He slowly shifted and then crawled over to his teammate. "You all right, Captain?" John asked as he inspected the injured leg.  
"That's Colonel to you," Steven mentioned. Sheppard didn't respond to that and Caldwell tilted his head, looking at the other man curiously. "You're still asleep aren't you?" he asked softly, realizing Sheppard was in the midst of a waking dream. He'd seen this before throughout his own career. It wasn't the same as sleep walking, it was more like a dream manifesting itself physically and playing out in front of you. This time though Caldwell was certain this wasn't simply a dream, but a memory.  
"Don't worry, I'll get you out of here," John told him, assuring whoever it was he was dreaming about that he'd bring him home. "I didn't come all this way to leave you here."  
Caldwell watched him closely and wondered if he could talk to him in this condition. Sheppard took a canteen from one of the supply kits behind him and opened it, handing it to Steven.  
“What are you doing, Sheppard?” he asked.  
"I couldn't just leave you out here," Sheppard replied, speaking to his dream companion as he answered Caldwell’s question. "They were taking too long negotiating and formulating a plan to come and get you and I didn't think you had that kind of time. And by the looks of it I was right," he said aloud.  
Colonel Caldwell listened to what John said, watching him as he relived a memory through his dream, most likely prompted by the accident and the minor head injury he'd sustained. He didn't know a whole lot about John Sheppard except for the facts typed out coldly in his record and by word of mouth from those higher ups - like him - who judged the young officer too quickly based on what their peers had to say.  
"I'll be okay," Steven said quietly to see if Sheppard would respond to him directly.  
"I know you will. That's what I like... staying positive in dire situations. That's the Holland I know," John replied with a slight grin as he tended to the splint, tightening the ties a bit to keep it from sliding around and causing more pain.  
"You came out here against orders, didn't you?" Caldwell asked him, wondering if this could be one of the episodes that caused Sheppard a black mark or two on his record.  
"Well," John replied, "like I said, I didn't think you had the time to sit and wait for someone to make a decision. So I made it for them," he told Caldwell. "You can come visit me in Leavenworth," he mentioned and raised his eyes to Steven.  
Caldwell stared at those hazel eyes with a new sense of the man he was stranded with. As Steven looked at him with a serious frown, John looked back through eyes not seeing him at all. It felt to Caldwell as if he was looking into a blind man's eyes; eyes from the past that had yet to catch up to the present.  
"Why'd you come out here, Sheppard? Alone."  
"I couldn’t leave you here and I couldn't ask others to risk their lives... or their careers," John told him. "I thought it'd be an easy in and out."  
"And it wasn't?" Caldwell asked, prompting him for information.  
"Not exactly... a round of small arms fire hit my tail rotor... lucky shot," he told him.  
"And now you're on foot too..." Steven pointed out. "On foot and in enemy territory... with an injured man to tow... "  
"We don't leave our people behind," John told him simply, and that’s what it always came back to for him. He finished with the splint and sat again with his back against the bench. He looked at Caldwell, but he saw Holland. He glanced out the back of the Jumper into the darkness of the cave, but what he saw there was an old Russian chopper settling into the sands of Afghanistan.   
John sighed deeply and hung his head forward. He became very still and Caldwell watched him for a few moments before Sheppard lifted his head again. He blinked and swept his hands roughly over his eyes, scrubbing at his face as he came out of his dream sleep. He noticed Caldwell looking at him strangely and John glanced about with a sense of discomfort. He shifted and stood up to stretch his legs and realized Caldwell was watching his every move.  
"You all right, Colonel?" he asked.  
Steven considered the question and nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think I'm a lot better off than I previously thought."  
John looked at him with a confused expression and then shrugged it off. He stepped over Caldwell's legs and walked down the ramp to toss more wood on the fire. The flame instantly kicked up with loud pops and crackles, sending red sparks into the darkness above them.

# # # 

Search and Rescue Team,   
Morning Day 2, 0600 hrs  
Yrsa Province, Ziya 

Fortunately, it only took one stop to finish procuring everything the team needed to see them through the jungles and mountains of Ziya. Within the hour, Lorne, Ronon, and Teyla had rejoined Sam and the rest of their party in a large city square that appeared to be a standard departure point for expeditions and safaris. They'd made one more trip to the tavern to have a good hot meal with their new guide, Ioann, in tow and to use the tavern's facilities to change into clothing that was more rider friendly than standard BDUs.  
Once they’d changed, the team returned to the square and each member of their party made a last check of their gear and tack, tightening saddle girths and bridle fittings before mounting up. Ronon took a moment to make sure all was secure on the spare renquins they were bringing for Sheppard and Caldwell. For now, the two animals carried extra gear and supplies, but by the time they would be needed as riding mounts, that equipment would have been used during the trip.   
Returning to the renquin Sam was holding for him, he smiled to see the large gray roan was the same mount he’d had from his previous trip. Setting foot to stirrup, Ronon swung easily astride the big animal and then turned to await Sam's order to move out. She handed the reins up to him with a dry smile before she strode over to swing up onto the back of her own mount.   
"Had to be horses," she muttered to herself and Ronon grinned at her. The Colonel hesitated for a moment then, recalling the few riding lessons she'd had as a child, managing to gain her own saddle with little to no embarrassment. The others were already mounted, so she looked to them and nodded. "Ioann and Lorne take point. Ronon, I'd like you and Teyla at our six. Doctors, in the center and follow me."  
It was like riding a bike. Why did people always say that? Dr. Beckett couldn't be completely sure why or where the saying had come from, but once he was seated atop the dusty dun mare, it all came back to him. The movement of the animal beneath him was awkward at first, but it took only a few minutes for his body to relax into it. Their motion and gait was rather soothing he realized quickly and grinned to himself as he fell in line behind Sam with the strong gusty winds at their backs.  
They left the city, following Ioann down a path that brought them to a jungle trail leading toward the mountain range. Here, the vegetation grew more dense and the grass taller. The underbrush thickened as they entered the edges of the jungle and as they moved steadily deeper into the trees the wind became less of a problem as the thick canopy provided a barrier against it.  
Now, there wasn’t a single sound of people or wagons, only the sounds they'd become accustomed to for two weeks at base camp, that of chirping bugs and birds and other animal life and the call of a primate that closely resembled a Cuscus from Earth and the flutter of wings of the small colorful birds over head.  
"Dr. Beckett, Rodney…" Sam looked back at the two doctors riding side by side just ahead of the two pack animals. "Be sure to keep a look out for anything that could be a predator. If you spot anything, a quick 'duck' or 'fire' will suffice."  
"Oh yes," McKay quipped, "because that's just so comforting."  
Ioann couldn't help but chuckle at the comment from Rodney. "Actually, most of the animals we will see for the first leg of the trip won’t be predatory by nature. A few are territorial and stay close to their established boundaries around the caves and mountain dens. We’ll need to be more concerned with some of the insects that can exist in dense masses, as well as a few species of brightly colored amphibians, nasty little buggers they are.  
“When we reach some of the more open areas, large clearings that harbor some of the larger species of birds here… they are called Diladacus. You do not want to become their focus. They can, and will, kill you if you venture too close to a nest or hatchling. Rhea, the young woman whose husband helped you outfit these animals..." he trailed off briefly, patting his mare lightly on the neck. "They lost their daughter a few months ago; the young one had wandered away from her parents during a nature hike and stumbled across a Diladacus. They were too slow to reach her." Ioann told them. "And, we will need to be careful especially around the rivers when we get closer to the rocky areas. A fierce hunter lives there. A large cat with teeth like swords, it is very large, very fast, and very smart. They sleep in caves during the day and become active at night to hunt."  
Everyone exchanged glances but nobody said what they were all thinking. Teyla noted Ronon looking to her with a pained expression and she offered him a smile. “Do not worry. Colonel Sheppard is well-trained and I’m sure Colonel Caldwell has experience in such situations if they did indeed crash. They both have excellent survival skills.  
“Indeed,” Carson nodded and interjected his own comments to try to help to waylay fears. “I know for a fact that Colonel Sheppard keeps his medic training up to date so if either of them are hurt, I trust in his ability to keep the situation stable until I can get there." The doctor gave a slight shrug, "There's not much more to it than that."  
“And if he’s the one who’s injured?” McKay asked with a tone that held a bit of fear as well as a challenge to the good doctor’s sense of logic.  
Carson shot him a look. “Well, thank you, Rodney,” Beckett tossed back, “then I suppose we have to hope that Colonel Caldwell also has significant field training in first aid.” He ended with a bit of a huff that caused Rodney to realize that his own comments were working against Carson’s attempts to keep hope alive and spirits up.


	7. Chapter 7

<><><><>

Chapter Seven

Jumper Crash Site  
Morning Day 2, 0800 hrs  
Volga Mountain Range

Sheppard's brain started swirling as his senses came online again. Sounds, like song birds and chattering woodland creatures were playing their way into his slowly waking brain. The smells permeating his olfactory senses, the dirt covered metal beneath his body, the fragrance of the jungle flora above them and his own day-old sweat filled his nostrils. He moaned and tried to open his eyes as he became aware of the heavy dense air that made it feel as though he was trying to breathe through a wet rag. The heat and humidity of the planet’s rain forests above were so intense that it even seeped into the cooler atmosphere of the underground cave through the giant hole in the cave’s ceiling where the Jumper had crashed through the planet’s surface.  
He groaned again as he realized just how uncomfortable waking up was becoming and then took a slow deep breath through his nose as his muscles began to stretch. He yawned as his brain cried for oxygen and his hand slid from his belly, falling to the floor. John opened his eyes slowly as if hung over or drugged and finally lifted his head from the metal floor.  
Rolling slowly onto his side, he looked over at Caldwell who was sitting up at the edge of the door. His head was pounding again and John thought as bad as it felt, he had nothing to complain about. He sniffed and slowly shifted to try to stand, feeling every stiffened muscle scream as it was forced to stretch out again and work.  
“Why don’t you take a minute and just relax?” Caldwell suggested as if annoyed. The comment caused John to stop in motion and blink at him.  
“What happened?” he asked.  
“You don’t remember?” Steven asked in that tone. Sheppard knew that tone, it was the one Caldwell used when he treated him as if his not recalling something really ticked him off. John thought about it for a few seconds and then slowly shook his head as he sat down on the floor, resting his back against the bench a few feet away from the other officer. “You, umm… passed out,” Caldwell informed him. “You also don’t listen very well,” he stated as if it wasn’t new news to either of them. “I told you to get some rest. You were in this aircraft when it crashed too, ya’ know.”  
“Yeah,” John breathed out heavily and placed a flat palm gingerly against the knot on his head, “I remember.”  
“You did way too much yesterday,” Caldwell mentioned, his tone slightly scolding and reminding John of his father again. “I told you to take it easy… to let me help out.”  
“It may come as a surprise to you, Colonel,” Sheppard replied, “but you’re worse off than I am.”  
“Well, this may come as a surprise to you, Colonel,” Caldwell retorted, “but you have a good sized knot on top of your head and the fact that it’s not bleeding like mine does not necessarily mean that yours is of lesser concern. And,” he paused for a moment before adding, “I need you to take care of yourself, because… I won’t make it down here without you.”  
His last comment made John’s eyes dart over to the Daedalus’ commander. The two men regarded each other silently and John figured that last part was either really difficult for Caldwell to admit to himself, much less say out loud, or he was simply stating the facts. Sheppard knew that to be true; which was why he’d tried to take it all on himself. He nodded and let out a sigh.  
John shifted himself and pushed against the bench, making it to his feet with a total lack of grace then he fished for the bottle of Tylenol from the kit. Keeping his back to Caldwell, who was watching him carefully, John simply opted to upend the bottle and deposited about half a dozen pills onto his tongue. He capped the bottle and slipped it into his vest pocket, then used his personal canteen to wash down the pills that were stuck in his dry throat.  
He took another few seconds to be sure his head was on straight and his legs were now solidly under him before he turned around and headed for the open hatch where Caldwell sat as sentry.  
"Time to make the donuts," he cracked and Caldwell gritted his teeth and shook his head slightly. John stepped carefully over the injured leg of his watchman. "You okay? I'm going to go see if I can find something better than MRE's and Power Bars. We should eat fresh if we can and save the emergency supplies for… later.”  
Caldwell knew what later meant. It meant later when we’re both so beaten down that our injuries pull us under and neither one of us will be able to fend for our survival anymore and the only thing we’ll have left is whatever is within arms’ reach.  
John pulled on another vest with full supplies and secured an empty backpack to the clips on his shoulders. He then grabbed a gerry can from its secure spot on the wall. “Maybe try to find a source of fresh water too," he mentioned and then walked down the ramp.  
Standing outside the Jumper, John looked up at the hole in the cave's ceiling. The trees high above them were already dancing in the winds that, for now, appeared to be slow and steady as the sun rose above the horizon. Because he was looking up into a clearing in the trees, he could see the sun's light glinting off the shiny leaves above. He could hear the animals and birds of the jungle waking up too and watched as a pair of colorful birds flushed from the trees above to take flight over their position.  
He then dropped his gaze and looked around the inside of the cave again. It was dark, even here under the sun roof his ship had created in the underground tunnels. He moved back inside and walked to the cockpit. He opened the compartment behind the pilot's seat and removed a large, million candle power flashlight. Then he foraged in the cargo net of the top shelf and brought down a heavy rubberized, foldable, water procurement pouch, opting to take that on the first excursion. No sense in carrying around a heavy gerry can for nothing if there isn’t water to be found he thought. He then grabbed a P-90 and stuffed a couple of full mags into his vest pockets before checking his sidearm and replacing it in his holster. Stepping over Caldwell again, he descended the ramp and turned to look at Steven.  
"You gonna be okay? I won't be gone long."  
Caldwell nodded. "I'll be right here. Just be sure and make plenty of noise when you come back; I‘d hate to shoot you by mistake.”  
“Yeah, that would ruin my day for sure,” John quipped as he fished the tiny buckle out from inside the chest flap of his vest to clip the weapon to.  
“And no bringing home any alien women," Caldwell mentioned as a jab at the younger man’s reputation. Then he leaned back to get a bit more comfortable, reaching up to rub the damp towel over his face to wipe away the sheen of sweat coating his face and head.  
"No women? Gee, but our new digs are such a babe magnet. I think dark, dank and dangerous is in this year," John wisecracked as he snapped the P-90 onto his vest. Then he looked at the injured man closely. "Do you need to... umm... you know... before I go?" he asked, indicating that he realized the Colonel hadn't had a chance to relieve himself at all since they’d landed in the cave.  
Caldwell arched an eyebrow as if to ask, then made an "oh" face as he realized what Sheppard was saying. "Not yet, not exactly full of food and fluids at the moment. I'll be fine." Caldwell wiped at his forehead and face with the towel again. "Damn, this place is an oven.."  
"Yeah,” John agreed, feeling the sweat roll down his spine already and he hadn’t even begun to exert himself. “I'll be sure to whistle or something on the way back," he assured the Colonel, looking at the fully locked and loaded weapon on Caldwell's lap. "Would hate to get shot with my own weapon," he replied with a wavering grin.  
Caldwell looked at him for a moment and wondered if Sheppard actually feared being taken out by a fellow officer. He certainly hadn’t made things easy on the Lt. Colonel since their first meeting, although things had eased considerably between them over the years.  
John chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully, as he contemplated leaving the injured man alone, then snapped the large flashlight on and began to walk away from the open hatch. He stooped down and tossed a couple of small logs on the dying fire and the flame immediately kicked up a bit. They didn't really need it for heat as much as for light down here and since Caldwell couldn't move about easily, it would afford him a nicely lit area about ten yards further in a semi-circle around his position. Just before John ducked into the first tunnel-like opening, he looked back over his shoulder at Steven before venturing into the unknown cave.  
Caldwell watched Sheppard move into the cave opening, sending a silent wish of luck with him. Shifting his position a bit to take some pressure off his back side, Steven winced with a twinge of pain from the splinted leg and then settled again. His eyes went back to the perimeter of the camp, his fingers tight around the P90 then watched the glow of Sheppard‘s powerful flashlight bouncing around inside the tunnel. After a few moments the glow faded until the mouth of the tunnel was pitch black again.  
John made his way through the dark tunnel system following the sounds of running water that he'd picked up on about twenty minutes ago. He couldn't help but think at certain points that this would be a spelunker's dream. Many of the walls were shiny black and reflected his flashlight beam almost blindingly when aimed at the right angle. Some of the passages he came to were quite narrow but allowed him entry easily and John was thankful that he hadn't gained a lot of weight since coming to Pegasus. He easily snaked his tall, lean frame through very tight areas, having to climb over hills or mounds that he figured were formed when the low ceiling gave way under the obvious water erosion.  
Signs of water flowing through the area were both good and bad. It gave him hope of further survival if he could find the source but also worried him as to what lay above their heads. For all he knew they could be sitting in a sink hole, a water-eroded sink hole, beneath a very heavy lake of some sort. Shaking his head, he pushed any further speculations from his mind.  
A few times he spotted what appeared to be sunlight ahead and each time he'd thought he'd found a way out, only to find it was simply another opening high above in the ceiling allowing the light to stream down. He began to think of these holes in the cave ceiling as gopher holes and it was beneath one of these large "gopher holes" that his foot kicked something that rolled away and he spun around to see something roll into the shadow of a large rock. He went over to pick it up and looked at it closely. It was about the size of a grapefruit and oblong with soft fuzz on the outside... he sniffed at it and blinked. It smelled like strawberries and kiwi.  
Fruit!  
Okay, that beats Power Bars, he told himself with an excited jolt.  
Now he focused his attention on the floor of the cavern to see dozens of these fuzzy objects. He released his pack and dropped it to the ground. Unbuckling the flap, he pulled open the drawstring top to deposit the cave fruit into the empty compartment. John inspected the rest of them, finding nine out of more than a dozen that looked freshly dropped this morning or overnight and six more that were a bit older but still firm and sweet smelling, the rest he left for any scavengers. Lifting the weighted pack he clipped it back to his shoulders and continued exploring.  
He went on for another fifteen minutes before he was forced to stop for a long drink. It was a strange atmosphere in the tunnels; damp and cool, yet at the same time, humid and stuffy. He was sweating profusely and his head was beginning to throb again. He figured he'd been gone long enough and it was time to get back before Caldwell thought something happened to him. It was hard enough being limited in your own defense but being injured and immobile and left to think ---.  
John turned around and re-traced his steps back through the tunnels, following his own footprints in the sand when he could. At one point, he had to make his way carefully down a sloping rock formation that was made quite slippery by the constantly trickling water that ran down the walls of this particular tunnel. He draped his arm over a boulder to ease himself down the final five foot drop when something touched his arm. He looked up casually and was startled by the huge, furry, spider-like thing that was perched on his forearm and giving him the evil eye... or the evil thousand-eyed stare was a more apt description.   
Sheppard yelped in surprise, the memory of the Iratus bug incident still fresh in his mind even five years later. He yanked his arm free, letting go of the boulder and sending the giant spidery creature back into the shadows as he dropped the final meter to the sandy ground below. He fell to his knees when he hit and then scrambled down the tunnel a few yards before turning back with his weapon aimed in case it, or it and its buddies, were coming after him. John's heart was pounding and he panted heavily for air in the tight, dark, humid space. Okay... now he could understand a little of McKay's claustrophobia. He swallowed thickly and backed out of the area, suddenly feeling as though he didn't have enough eyes of his own. Trying to look forward and back and down to his feet then up toward the ceiling all at the same time, John moved swiftly through the twisting tunnels.  
When the tunnel finally opened into a wide open cavernous area, John let out a long breath and leaned against the wall, allowing his weapon to hang unattended from its clip at the front of his vest. His head hurt again, so he popped a few tablets from the bottle in his pocket and swallowed a long gulp of water.  
He took a few minutes rest, to settle his nerves and take in the surroundings, trying to get good bearings of the surrounding area leading to their camp. Looking back toward the tunnel he’d just exited, John hoped those spider things didn’t like to leave their immediate territory inside the deep tunnels. He listened to the jungle sounds overhead and enjoyed the bright sunlight above whenever he reached one of the "gopher holes" that offered not only light and fresh fruit, but wood for a fire as well as fresh air.

# # #

Caldwell sighed, looking around the perimeter for the hundredth time and seeing exactly nothing. He let his hand drift up to rub along his chin, muttering at the new stubble he felt there. Boredom began to make him think and that was the last thing needed for someone whose head was pounding like a bass drum. He finally reached back and began to ease himself up and deeper into the Jumper. He settled against one of the benches and looked around in the dim lighting that Sheppard had managed to activate right after their crash.  
Steven sat back with a huff, frustrated that with all the high tech equipment around him and yet, here he sat, wounded and helpless… an invalid with no way to call for help or even send out a signal. It was like being back in the 1800's.  
The 1800's?  
Caldwell sat up suddenly, eyes going wide as he let out a couple of involuntary sounds. The first was a gasp of surprise at the idea that had just come to him, followed quickly by a grunted "ow" as his hand shot up to gently hold the bandage on his head. Caldwell kept his hand there as he looked around. Reaching out, he grasped the vest that Sheppard had removed from him the day before and pulled it toward him, tugging the small radio from the left shoulder pocket. He sat up straighter, looking around the Jumper’s interior and then back to his vest. He fished into another pocket and tugged out a multi-functional tool from one of the other pouches and proceeded to get busy.


	8. Chapter 8

<><><><>

Chapter Eight

Nearly two hours after he'd left the Jumper, John stepped out of the tunnel's entrance opposite the campsite. He could see the reflection of the orange flames dancing off the cave walls and he whistled loudly in one long sharp note to alert Caldwell that he was approaching.  
"Ollie, Ollie, oxen free... please don't shoot… because it's me," he half-sang, in relief that he'd made it back without being eaten by the dinner plate-sized spider thing. That thought made him shudder. John approached the other man who was sitting now just inside the hatch opening. Coming around the fire, he smiled and shared his adventure. "I was almost a spider's dinner,” he told his crash companion, “... and yes, there are spiders that big in here. So no wandering off," he pointed at Caldwell as if the man could just take off on his own. "On the bright side... I found some fresh fruit."  
John paused as he realized his sentry hadn’t acknowledged his return nor was he precisely where he'd left him. Sheppard tilted his head slightly as he watched and wondered what Caldwell was doing there, inside the Jumper. "Hello?" he said as he put a foot up on the ramp.  
Caldwell was sitting a bit awkwardly and he had a small equipment case on his lap as a makeshift table, his hand radio was opened up and taken apart, and he was tinkering at it with his multi-tool. He didn't even look up until Sheppard was almost inside the open hatch.  
"Hey, Sheppard! I had an idea while you were gone!" He hissed in a breath and winced a bit from the sudden outburst and paused to take a deep breath.  
"I... can see that," John replied with a bemused expression as he came inside the Jumper and sat down on the bench facing the Colonel. His eyes scanned the pieces of the portable radio that were spread out around Caldwell as he tinkered with the radio's guts, the tool in his hand and the sheen of sweat glistening on his head and face.  
"Listen,” Caldwell explained, “...this mineral interferes with our normal transmissions because our modern, high-tech radios are built to relay very clear verbal transmissions and to carry a voice between the transmitters and receivers... that takes a lot of power and frequency clarity."  
"Right,” Sheppard agreed, “and you thought taking the radio apart would... use less power?" he asked, as if humoring the man.  
Caldwell gestured around him to the Jumper’s interior. "I don't know a lot about these Jumpers, but you do, so listen to me first and then tell me what you think." Caldwell shifted a bit and grunted as his leg pain flared.  
Sheppard watched him warily, taking note every time the Colonel winced or grunted. He was more focused on assessing his patient than really paying attention to how the man had occupied his time while bored. From what he'd been told, this mineral made all high-tech communications worthless. But if this is how Caldwell was able to maintain some semblance of sanity while having to just sit around on his ass all day, well, John shrugged mentally and listened to what Steven was saying.  
"The Jumper's batteries are probably still very strong, even if the onboard systems seem to be damaged in some way, so we have a hell of a lot of power for my idea to work… maybe.”  
“What idea?” John asked.  
“What if..." Caldwell leaned forward a bit. "We connect the Jumper's power source to the transmitter of one of these radios, to boost its own power, but instead of trying for clear voice transmissions... we simply focus all the power into something simple...like a tone." He watched Sheppard's face to see if he was catching on. John simply looked back at him evenly, his expression flat, as if he was neither amused nor entertained as he listened, so Caldwell continued. "I think I can fiddle with this radio enough to interrupt the tone by depressing the transmit button... just like an old fashioned telegraph key." Caldwell grinned a bit wider now.  
"So you're thinking Morse Code. Send out an S.O.S," Sheppard summed up as Caldwell smiled at him. John nodded slowly and chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, thinking. "That's a good idea, Colonel. Definitely worth a shot," he said then paused. "Of course, you have to understand that very few people nowadays even know Morse Code. I used it back when I was taken captive by Larrin and her crew... and the only person who caught my Mayday in Morse, through all the other garbled crap on that frequency, was McKay... and I doubt Rodney's radio, even if he’s still on this planet, could pick up our transmission without altering his own..."  
"I don't know if it’ll go very far,“ Caldwell admitted, “… and it probably won’t and it doesn't have a chance in hell of reaching orbit, but it might reach any search teams in the area. I doubt they'll be able to respond but at least they'll know we're here and alive." Caldwell leaned back and let out a breath as his head ached with the beat of his own pulse. "And... they might be able to use the signal as a rudimentary directional finder, heading in whatever direction the signal is loudest once we leave it on..."  
John gave the idea his honest consideration before shrugging as he said, "So it wouldn't matter if they understood whether it's Morse or not. It would simply give them a signal to home in on... like a transponder," he mentioned with a nod and then stopped with a thought. "But this Jumper already has an onboard transponder... and a rescue beacon... and we both have our personal transmitters," he reminded Caldwell tapping on his own forearm over the techno-gadget that'd been placed under his skin. “If they aren’t able to home in on any of those identifying signals, I guess expecting them to pick up on this is a bit far-fetched.”  
Caldwell sat back, exhausted by the work he had been doing and by the adrenaline rush caused by the exhilaration of his idea. He breathed heavily as he looked up at Sheppard. "Well? Do I sound insane? And did you say fruit?"  
"Yes," Sheppard answered solidly, not clarifying which question he was actually responding to. He reached into his pack and pulled out a large fuzzy, sweet-smelling kiwi looking thing and handed it to the other officer. "I'm not saying it's not worth a try, anything is worth a try, but I wouldn't get my hopes up too high. I know it sucks, being stuck down here, like this, with me but..." John paused again, not really wanting to go to the obvious futility of their situation as it stood right now.  
Instead, he stood up and went to the radio control box under the front console in the cockpit. Pulling off the cover panel he scanned the insides of it. It was definitely high-tech and of ancient design, but he was pretty sure it should work in the same manner as the radio box on any one of his old choppers.   
"I think we can do this," he suddenly told Caldwell and Steven looked to him with a renewed hope. "After breakfast," he added as his stomach growled so loud it rumbled through the entire ship.  
He moved out of the cockpit and sat down on the bench again. He reached out and took the fruit from Caldwell‘s hand as his other hand snaked behind him to unsheathe his knife. He held the fragrant fruit in one palm and pushed the blade of his knife into it, splitting it down the length then carefully rotated it on end to let the blade encircle it. He could feel the resistance of a large pit in the center and once he'd separated the two halves, he put the knife down on the bench and slowly pulled the pieces away from the pit with a slight twist.  
Sheppard scanned the inside of the fruit, looking for anything that appeared too alien or might indicate that it may not be good to eat. He looked at Caldwell then sniffed the meaty part, thinking that it still smelled of strawberries and kiwi. John set one half down beside him and pulled the skin of the fruit back along the edge, throwing a glance to Caldwell who was watching him intently. He took a cautious bite of it and chewed it slowly, swallowing the sweet juice and then waited.  
"It's good..." he mentioned with raised eyebrows, just as information to share as he waited to see if it would double him over in excruciating pain, frothing at the mouth and convulsing.  
Jeezus, John, he thought, slapping himself mentally for the imagination he was stricken with. He stared straight ahead, facial muscles tense and set into a frown as he waited to keel over dead. Half a minute passed, then a whole minute. Caldwell was still watching him as if to say 'well??'  
Sheppard blinked, then looked down at the bitten fruit in his hand, sucked a piece of it out of his tooth with a loud noise and shrugged. "I guess it's okay to eat. I'm not dead," he informed the Colonel and handed the injured man the other half, then scraped the pit out of his half with the knife blade and stuffed the seed into his pocket for the science botany team, just in case.  
As he sat quietly, eating his fresh breakfast, John kept sliding his eyes to the other officer. He felt bad in so many ways he couldn't even sort them out in his own head before getting confused and just pushing them away. Of all people to get stranded with, he thought, unaware he was shaking his head with the thought. ‘…Of all people to bust up in a crash... stupid.’  
He finished up his half of the fruit as quickly as he could manage without choking on it then stood up. He couldn't seem to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time and he didn't even realize it. His thoughts were centered on finding a way to get the injured man rescued - that was his duty, his responsibility. He was responsible for them being here. He was responsible for so much.  
There was just so much that happened so often, that was his fault.  
Like a slap in the face, that thought hit him again and he turned his back to the man on the floor. John closed his eyes and tried not to think about his father, his brother, his ex-wife, Dex and Mitch, those three Rangers in Afghanistan he couldn't save in time and Captain Holland who died on him while trying to extract him from behind enemy lines.  
His thoughts jumped right over the fact that, after Holland died in the desert while he was trying to drag and carry the body to safety, he’d been caught and taken prisoner. He deserved it, he figured. Then there was Colonel Sumner… and the Wraith. Their awakening was due to his actions, his actions alone. Like the Ancients who came before him, he'd set the stage and unleashed that vampire-like scourge on the helpless people of the Pegasus... and their threat was now focused on Earth too. There was just so much that John Sheppard touched that went so bad so often.  
No! Stop with this self-defeating bullshit! Think, John! He took a deep breath and pushed those thoughts away again, covering his own moment of self-pity by grabbing a new water bottle from the top cargo area and turning around to give it to Caldwell.  
"Here," he said simply. "I'm going to go explore the other side of this cavern. There's got to be a way out of here." He stood there for a moment just looking at the senior officer before saying quietly, "I'll find a way out. I'll make sure you get home..." He vowed that to Caldwell, nodding in assurance.  
Before he allowed too many of his own dark thoughts to set upon him, John swallowed thickly and cleared his throat. He reached into a large plastic box and pulled out a handful of six inch long green chemical lights that had a 12-hour light life.  
Turning on his heel he marched out of the Jumper to go tend to the fire more to give himself something to do than anything else. A few minutes passed as he scanned the interior darkness of the cave again, listening to Caldwell's tinkering inside with the small two-way radio. He turned his head to look over his shoulder discreetly to check on the man sitting inside then moved about the cave, collecting more wood for the fire so they could cook their MRE's later. They'd at least have a hot meal in their bellies to sleep on tonight, until then they had a long day ahead of them and a good seven hours left to explore he figured.  
Once he dropped the armload of fire wood beside the campfire, he left Caldwell with a comment that he was heading out again and disappeared, this time around the other side of the Jumper. There were numerous tunnels that threaded through the cavernous area and he snapped open a chem-light, dropping it on the ground a few feet inside each tunnel before he stepped out of it to move into another that branched off, so he could tell which tunnels to follow on his way back. He walked along at a rather brisk pace as this direction afforded wider and more spacious wormholes through the rock hard earth. ‘Wormholes,’ John grinned wryly at the realization that most of his travel nowadays was through one sort of wormhole or another.

# # #

He’d walked along for nearly an hour when he saw a bright light ahead. He didn’t let himself get excited about it because he’d seen those false lights through other tunnels before. As he got closer to the light though, John frowned with a curious thought. The shadows of the rocks along the ground were stretching toward him as if… as if the light was coming in horizontally and not from above. He paused for a heartbeat and then ran forward to find a large opening at the mouth of the cavern but the cave’s opening was now blocked by a rock fall.  
The light was definitely from the sunlight outside the cavern and John climbed a few feet up the rockslide to peer through the opening between two large boulders that sat cock-eyed atop one another. He could see a green meadow outside and the tall grass waving in the strong breeze. There were small butterflies flittering around the wild flowers and if he tilted his head and squinted against the bright blue sky he could see birds soaring in the sky above.  
John grinned; his hands gripping the cool sand covered rocks and let his eyes roam over the obstructions in his way. Stepping backward, he dropped off the rock formation and put his hands on his hips as he considered his options.


	9. Chapter 9

<><><><>  
Chapter Nine

After his second excursion, John returned to the Jumper victorious, with a strange rabbit-like creature hanging by its rear legs from his hand. Disheveled and dust covered, he smiled at Caldwell as Steven looked up from his tinkering. Caldwell blinked at the rabbit and asked where he’d gotten it and John told the story of finding the rock slide; how he'd squeezed his way through a large crack in the rock wall and made it outside and, as luck would have it, this funny little furry thing hopped by and he shot it for lunch.  
The protein from the fresh meat would help them keep up their strength and it was good to know there was hunting in the area that was worth going outside the cavern into the intense heat. He skinned the animal and set it on a spit-like stick over their fire and then went to work on setting up Caldwell's telegraph system. To Sheppard's surprise, it did send off a tone signal. Whether or not anyone would pick it up was another matter entirely.  
As the roast beast was cooking over the flame, Colonel Caldwell had mentioned that his legs and backside were numb from just sitting around on the diamond plating, so Sheppard had helped lift him to his feet. After a few moments of simply standing, holding the man vertical and allowing time for the tingles and pins 'n' needle feelings to subside, he helped Caldwell down the ramp.  
Allowing the injured man to use him as support, John helped Caldwell limp heavily around the center fire. The close contact between the two was odd for both of them, but it allowed them to realize that they really needed to lean on each other right now; figuratively and literally.  
Caldwell staggered and stumbled a bit, letting out a few muffled curses as Sheppard steadied him. They moved around the small camp to allow the injured man a bit of exercise, every other step making him breathe out with a pained grunt. They completed a second full circle of the area close to the Jumper when Caldwell became irritable.  
"Okay, okay...damn it… set me down. Right here... beside the fire...now… Ow! Now!" Caldwell’s sudden scolding tone unnerved Sheppard a bit but he reined it in as the Colonel began to show signs of tiring. John helped him to sit down on a small rock just outside the Jumper’s hatch to allow him a sense of freedom from the ship and to feel less claustrophobic in the vast space of the cave.  
"Are you all right?" John asked him as he settled him onto the rock. Caldwell sat down heavily, wincing and then exhaling as the pressure was taken off his bad leg.  
"Thanks," he said to Sheppard and then shifted, trying to get comfortable. "Yeah, I'm just starting to get real tired of being hurt. I'll live though."  
"You've been hurt just a little more than a day,” John mentioned, hoping to bring the time served into perspective. Even he could feel the sensation that they‘d been down here for weeks already. He shrugged a bit at his own comment.  
Caldwell gave a rueful smile. "Sheppard... I was tired of being hurt about five minutes after I woke up in the back of the Jumper. It's not a passage of time thing."  
"Oh," John realized he understood that all too well and nodded sheepishly, "Yes, Sir, I understand. Sorry."  
Caldwell let out a sigh and looked up at the younger man. Strangely enough, he noted that covered in dust and his hair sticking up in every possible direction, Sheppard actually appeared ten years younger than he normally did. Steven shook his head at the Peter Pan effect the other man seemed to have.  
"Sheppard, I think our current situation sort of makes military courtesy a bit superfluous, don‘t you?” he stated and John looked at him with a confused expression. Steven let out a breath and expounded. “You can drop the ranks and sirs for now, okay?"  
"Umm...." John looked at him for a moment then turned to tend the rabbit. He worked now at removing the cooked meat from the fire and began to carefully separate it into two equal portions with his knife and fingers, hissing at the burning sensation on his fingertips now and again. He sucked on his fingers to cool them before he tried a second time to portion the meal.  
"Yes, Sir, I mean, yeah, sure... Sir," John pulled a face at his failure and put his focus back on the carcass in front of him. He had no idea what to call him other than that. Steven sat up straighter and his gaze hardened on Sheppard who shot him a sidelong look.  
"It's Caldwell if you don't want to be any less formal than that. We're trapped in the bottom of a damn deep hole and it's quite possible we're in danger for our lives and even more possible that we‘ll never be found…“ Steven stopped that train of thought as John shot him a really pained look. The younger man felt bad enough already and that wasn’t Steven’s intention. He let out a sigh and calmed his frustration. “I'm not going to have you arrested for insubordination if you call me Steven."  
John winced at that last part. Insubordination seemed to be the very least for which he could be brought up on charges if the man really wanted to, he figured. "Right.... it's just that Caldwell seems a bit... rude,” John told him. “Although…“ He smirked a bit as he worked, glancing up at Caldwell now and again, “I hear there’s a new rumor going around the infirmary and it revolves around someone who is… how was it put? Oh right, big, bald, and beautiful.” John tried to hide the grin as he stretched his newly given freedom of informality, but leave it to Sheppard to always toe the line. Caldwell's eyes widened at Sheppard's comment.  
"I'm... what?" Caldwell thought furiously for a few seconds then began to blush a bit. "Oh, well… I guess it's not exactly a secret, huh,” he stated and then tilted his head slightly. “She said that?"  
John smiled as he handed over one plate with the cooked meat. "It's what I've heard, Sir. I'm not sure who she is though." John mentioned and looked at Caldwell expectantly.  
Caldwell deadpanned. "The hell you're not,” he replied and Sheppard grinned. “I suggest you never take up poker, Sheppard. If anyone could be court-martialed over what he doesn’t say and found guilty only because of the expressions on his face; that say very clearly I might add, everything he’s thinking it’s you." Caldwell told him only partially joking, as he picked up a piece of the meat and blew on it. He took a small test bite then nodded. "Not bad."  
"Mmm!" Sheppard nodded as he pulled a chunk of tender meat from his portion with his teeth. He chewed, grinning, with the grease from the meat making his lips and fingers shine in the firelight. “Mmmm, pretty good," he agreed and then grinned again. “I've never been real good at poker, Sir," he confessed, but then he’d never played the game seriously either. “Is Dr. Garman the reason you... find yourself stuck here with me, Sir?" John realized how that sounded and he backtracked, re-phrasing the question. "What I mean is, is she the reason you decided to come along on this trip?"  
Caldwell sighed. "Okay, yes... I was simply trying to give her a pleasant surprise since she's been working so hard. She always tries to meet up with me when I return from Earth and I thought I’d return the favor. You know, be the one to make the effort this time." Caldwell arched an eyebrow at Sheppard. "You know that your Satedan friend has you beat in the subtlety department?"  
Sheppard didn't look up from his meal as he slowly pulled another steaming chunk from the bulk of it. "Does he?"  
Caldwell nodded, chewing another mouthful of meat. "Mmmhhmm. So, besides that... is there anything else I can answer for you?"  
John slid a glance to the other man and opted to let the subject drop. "No, Sir. I think Dr. Garman is... a... good woman,” he offered then stuttered a bit, “N-n-not that you need my opinion on the matter of course, Sir." John then quieted down and kept his eyes on his meal, looking up now and again to look over his shoulder as if hearing a sound behind him.  
Caldwell looked at him with another quiet glance, noticing there was more to Sheppard's silence than just working on his dinner. "Sheppard, something's been eating at you ever since we landed here. Would you like to spit it out?"  
John looked up at him. He blinked and then his eyes moved about the cavern as if following his thoughts. "We didn't exactly land here. Did we--?" he mentioned as more of a statement than a question.  
Caldwell regarded him evenly now. "Nope, definitely not exactly a landing, but it beats the alternative."  
"What's eating me, Sir... is that I lost control of my ship and nearly killed you. And now we're lost and cut off --- " He stopped himself, nearly biting his tongue. "I guess I just... didn't need another entry in my personal log of screw ups. Ya' know?" He tried to smile at the comment, but it didn't come across well at all.  
Caldwell took in a deep breath. "So let me get this straight... you think this is your fault?" He reached up and ran his hand down his face, pulling on his chin at the end. "For god's sake, Sheppard, did you have any idea how strong these winds were going to get or precisely how they behave? I know we didn't on board the Daedalus. We had no idea, because the mineral here makes it impossible to get proper readings on anything.”  
John thought about that for a minute. "Well... no," he replied and then added with a slow shrug, "Still...."  
“Oh, for crying out loud, Sheppard, snap out of it!" Steven grated. John's head shot up as Caldwell growled at him. He stared at the other man with wide intense eyes. “You think you're in trouble because of this? Believe me, if they wanted to get rid of you for screwing up, you would’ve been relieved of duty and command the moment contact was re-established with Earth."   
Caldwell glared at Sheppard across the flickering fire. The statement shocked John and his face tensed as he stared across the flames at the other man. "Don't get me wrong,” Steven told him, “you're an expert at screwing up, but only when you're not allowed to do the job the way you want to." Caldwell took a long breath as he watched Sheppard gazing into the fire. "I read your file before I came out here. I know where you've been and why and how you got to Atlantis.” Caldwell told him seriously and John dropped his head as he listened. “I've had a chance to watch you the whole time I've been assigned out here. I don't always agree with how you do the things you do, Sheppard, or pretend to understand entirely how you think, but you do get the job done, and your mind and heart are usually in the right place for taking care of your people... and I respect that."  
John listened as the Colonel hammered out his own feelings regarding his tenure on Atlantis. He even knew about how he'd gotten there to begin with? He read my file? Okay, it didn't surprise him that the older Colonel didn't agree with his tactics, there weren't too many hardcore military types that did agree with his ways. But once Caldwell had said his piece, Sheppard nodded slightly.  
"I think I heard a compliment in there somewhere..." he wise-cracked, highlighting that he wasn't the only one who had trouble expressing what he really wanted to say. "Well, I don't always agree with your ways either... Sir.”  
“Really,” Caldwell returned dryly, as if that didn’t exactly come as a surprise.  
“Yes, Sir. I may be a Grade-A screw up as far as the military is concerned,” John offered and then thought about that for a moment, “… and my father, but I do what I feel is right, no matter what." John paused again. He didn't want to argue over protocol or military formalities, not now, so he lowered his voice and softened his tone and simply made a long story short, hoping Caldwell would understand that John Sheppard was a pretty simple guy. "I haven't made a right choice, as far as anyone in authority is concerned, since I was about fourteen, Sir. I gave up trying to figure out just what it is people want from me a long time ago. I can’t---.” John paused, thinking.  
“I can't-- I can't do things the way other people want me to. Maybe that's the one thing that ensures I will always be seen as a screw up. It's just not a skill I've been able to acquire." He busied himself with cleaning his plate and utensils and then moved over and took Caldwell's too. He offered the man a bottle of water and tried to change the subject. "You need something for pain?" he asked already standing up.  
Caldwell shook his head as he gestured for John to pull up a rock first. "Sheppard, sit down," he said, staring at the other man until John sat down again a few feet from him. "Listen,” Caldwell began carefully, because there was something he wanted Sheppard to know and he also realized that he’d been rather critical of the other man since the day they’d met.  
Most of the higher ranked Colonels had treated John with barely controlled disdain over the past five years and it didn‘t matter in which branch they served. The reason for that was because it didn’t take long for everyone back at the SGC above the rank of Major to learn that Colonel Marshall Sumner, U.S. Marine Corp, was killed in the line of duty and it was Major Sheppard who had fired the shots, deliberately.   
Even though Colonel Everett had returned to Earth after the siege of Atlantis, with injuries incurred by a Wraith, with a report that acquitted the younger officer of wrong doing and had, in fact, attested to the shots fired as being a sort of mercy killing - well, it was still difficult to hold a higher rank around the kid; always wondering if he was thinking of taking out anyone who held him in contempt, as Sumner had. Colonel Steven Caldwell had learned over the past four years that, not only was that not Sheppard’s way of handling opposition, but that the death of Sumner by his hands really hung over the kid like a nasty dark cloud he couldn’t get out from under.  
“You’re never going to be General of the Air Force... and you're never going to work at the Pentagon but you already knew that. You're doing what you are the best at, right where you are, commanding people in the field. You're never going to be a bureaucrat, but I suspect you're going to go on being the boss of people around here, leading from the front, and bringing your people back to the best of your abilities until you either die or retire. That much I am sure of." Caldwell sat back a bit and took a deep breath. "Maybe I don't think outside the box enough, Sheppard, I know that... but that's not how I do things. I can no more act or react in your style than you could in mine. But, I'm in command of a starship, with systems and weapons and shields and a crew that depends on me being predictable. Things are different for you. You do need to learn some diplomacy, I will admit that. You could also use with a little more discipline, but you don't have to change the way you do things."  
Sheppard crooked a wry grin at Caldwell.   
"Well, I'm in command of a city ship, with systems and weapons and shields and a citywide crew, so those things aren't completely different between the two of us. Our ships and crews are slightly different... and maybe that's a good thing. My style and my "ship" are unconventional. Your style and your ship are straight-laced military," he shrugged, not sure if any of those details even truly mattered. Then he smiled slightly and said, "I know I heard a compliment or two in there that time." John looked over at the other man, feeling a little strange given the odd father/son type moment he'd just experienced; something he’d never gotten from his own father. It was hard for him to say it, but he was able to get it out, albeit a bit uncomfortably. "Thank you, Sir." He stood up to go back inside the Jumper to get a dose of morphine to help the Colonel rest but he stopped halfway there and confessed without turning around. "It's nice knowing you're around, Sir."  
Caldwell leaned against the rock and blinked at John’s back. He hadn‘t realized that his presence in the Pegasus Galaxy was actually appreciated by the other officer. It was now becoming clear to Steven that his experience, even his authority, lent the younger man a sense of security. "Sheppard, if you call me ‘Sir’ again while we're in this hole, I'm going to shoot you in the face."  
John grinned at that as he walked up the ramp and proceeded to the medical kit. He took a few moments for himself, hoping to let his last words evaporate before going back out there. He returned to Steven a few minutes later and administered the morphine dose, checked the pulse on the splinted foot again, and placed his hand on Caldwell's forehead to check his body temp. He still had a slight fever, but not as bad as yesterday.  
"Try to rest a bit," he advised and helped to slide his patient from the rock so he wouldn't fall off. John couldn't help but chuckle belatedly at the threat. He sat back to watch the flames for a bit and Caldwell nodded.  
"Oh yeah, that's better," Caldwell's body had already relaxed a little as the shot took the edge off the pain and he settled back, looking more at peace. "And John... you've most likely saved my life these past two days. I owe you one."  
John's heart went into his throat at the familiar use of his name and then again with the statement. It touched him deeply, but in an odd unfamiliar manner.   
"No, Sir... you don't."  
“Don’t argue with me. You’re always arguing with me,” Caldwell’s scolding words slurred as the pain killer took effect.  
John raised his eyes to look at him without lifting his head and whispered, “Yes, Sir.”


	10. Chapter 10

<><><><>

Chapter Ten

# # #

Jumper Crash site  
Cavern  
Volga Mountain Range

John watched the fire with an unfocused stare as if hypnotized by the dancing orange light. When he finally blinked and glanced around he realized he'd been so engrossed in a trance-like state that hours had gone by. He shot a look toward Caldwell to see if the man had noticed his daydreaming, but thankfully, the morning's long and focused project seemed to have taxed the injured man a bit and he appeared to be resting peacefully under the morphine's influence.  
Sheppard let out a breath and suddenly felt his own weariness settle on him like a ton of bricks. He had a hell of a day yesterday with the crash and all, then tending to his patient into the night until Caldwell seemed to feel well enough in the wee hours of the morning to take over sentry duty and allow him a few hours of exhausted dream-filled sleep. According to Caldwell he’d actually passed out before getting himself situated for sleep and waking up sprawled on the metal floor of the Jumper sort of proved that to be true.  
They’d had a full day so far and it was only half over, with his cave exploration and hunting and gathering activities, the flame’s hypnotizing effect and the lack of immediate urgency in any area at the moment had caused his adrenaline levels to dump. John slid off the rock he'd been sitting on and decided it was safe enough for both of them to nap and get much needed rest to re-energize. Giving his system time enough to absorb the energy giving protein from the fresh meat, he decided to give himself some time to digest it before moving on to any other activities.  
He'd barely slipped off the rock to lean against it when his eyes drifted closed and sealed heavily shut. The pain in his head was tolerable, but the non-stop ache and thrumming of it taxed his energy. As his brain swirled and the world tilted, John jolted awake, only to realize the sensation of tipping over or being pushed over was just an effect of his body and mind being so spent. He allowed his muscles to relax fully and let sleep drag him under.  
He dreamed, active and frenzied dreams, re-living memories he'd already come through, but the similarities in this instance to other moments in his life simply called out for his brain to make the connections in sleep. He'd only planned on sleeping a few minutes, twenty tops -- just a quick power nap -- but the body needs what the body needs and he slept heavily for a couple of hours and it was late into the afternoon before either man stirred again.  
Caldwell's mind drifted, senses swirling in the whirlpool of sleep, gradually becoming aware of a rolling repetitive growl. His eyes slowly drifted open and he blinked, then he realized that the sound he thought he’d been dreaming hadn't stopped. Caldwell sat up with a jolt, grabbing for the P-90 lying on the ground beside him as he scanned the area for the source of the growl... then his eyes fell on Sheppard.  
The younger officer was lying against a rock on the opposite side of the campfire; his head tilted back and jaw slightly open revealing the source of the growl that had awakened him. Caldwell snorted to himself then grinned at his reaction to the noise as he watched Sheppard enthusiastically sawing logs. Steven sat up carefully, partly from the jolts of pain and also to be quiet so he didn’t disturb the sleeping man... not that Caldwell thought he'd hear anything moving about right now. 

# # #

A few more hours passed before something woke John and he jolted a bit in his sleep as he stirred awake. As he took a deep breath the loud snore that came from his throat scared him and he jumped awake wondering what the hell that was. He looked around the area and noticed the flame had dampened down and, sitting across from him, Caldwell was giving him a bemused half-grin. John shifted and winced; the rock apparently not as comfortable as it had looked when he was exhausted. He pulled himself up straighter and sniffed as he tried to get his bearings.   
"Wow... I think I slept longer than I planned." Looking over to the sun spot that was shining through the gopher hole onto the cave floor just beyond the Jumper's starboard side, he could tell the day was waning, the sun starting its descent already. "Damn..." he scrambled up to his feet and patted himself down, checking his vest and muttering to himself.   
"I wanted to try something," he informed the Colonel and began to walk away before stopping again as if distracted. He half turned back to Caldwell and then muttered something again as he headed into the Jumper's cargo bay. "I've got an idea," he stated to no one in particular. He went to the cockpit to check on the radio signal and found it to still be transmitting, then he turned to look out the back hatch through the length of the Jumper at Caldwell. "Once it gets dark," he started, "I want to try an idea. It might work… or it might kill us," he mentioned, "but I think it could work.  
"Your S.O.S. is still transmitting, too... so this is good. We're doing okay," he stated and came back out of the Jumper. "I'll get some more fire wood," he told Caldwell and then paused, looking up at the ceiling of the cavern as the winds outside howled loudly through the cracks and crevices in the rock walls. "Sounds nasty out there," he stated.  
Caldwell grinned. "No kidding. It would take some kind of nut to fly in this weather... not to mention any morons who wanted to tag along, huh?"  
Turning back to Caldwell, John knelt down to check the man's head wound. "How're you doing?" he asked. "This could get changed again. The bleeding's slowed a bit, but it's still flowing pretty steadily it looks like." He jumped up and went to snatch the med kit and returned.  
Peeling the bloodied dressing from Caldwell's dome, John looked at it closely and then tossed it into the flame. He leaned forward to inspect the wound closely and glanced at Steven's eyes as the man stared up at him. John offered a grin and then peeled open a couple of packages of 4x4's and re-dressed the head wound.  
"You need any Tylenol?" he asked. He finished taping the clean dressing to the wound and then put his hands on the man's ribcage to palpate both sides gently, waiting for his patient to give him signs of trouble. Caldwell winced at the continuing soreness, but didn't let the full amount of pain show through.   
"Ow... easy,” he groaned.  
"Sorry," Sheppard offered, then shrugged with a crooked grin, "couldn't palpate any easier than that. Hurting pretty bad, huh?"  
“It‘s a little painful still, but I can function. And yes, I think I'd like some Tylenol... five or six, if they'd help."  
John raised a brow at the other man. "I'll give you four for now then we'll check how you're doing in a little while." He then moved down and checked the splinting and examined the leg itself. One thing he didn't want to see was anything that may be a sign of permanent injury; like internal bleeds that would bleed out too quickly for him to do anything about, or any gangrenous injury that would call for amputation. He let out a long breath and looked at his surroundings again. This sucked.... but he still gave Steven a small amiable grin of assurance.  
"Looking good," he informed him and then handed him a fresh bottle of water. "Let me collect some more wood for you and you can tend to the fire while I... go back out and try to hunt down our water source." He grinned again and disappeared behind the Jumper.  
Caldwell could hear him moving about and stacking the wood and sticks in his arms as he gathered them. Returning a few minutes later with his arms loaded with wood, John bent over to let the stack roll from his arms beside Caldwell then tossed a few good sized pieces on the flames just to feed it something. The fire licked hungrily at the new offerings and the cave brightened a bit more.  
"So... Steven..." John tried out the man's name, but it really felt awkward on his tongue and inside he cringed, waiting for the backlash. "I'm going to see if I can find that water source I thought I was on the trail of yesterday," he informed Caldwell as he checked his pistol and stuffed it back into his holster.  
Caldwell nodded. "Right, water is the most finite of our resources right now..." he said and looked up at the openings overhead, "Well... unless it starts raining, but one worry at a time."  
"Right," Sheppard replied with a nod, "and I don't think waiting for the weather cycle to change is our best bet. If these winds are anything at all like the ones in California, we won't be seeing rain for a while. Hopefully we won't be seeing any forest fires either." John stood up and went back to the Jumper to retrieve his P-90, the water collector unit and the strong flashlight, coming back down the ramp as he zipped up his vest again. "I won't be long," he informed the other officer and then paused with a thought.  
The memory of that giant spider thing in the tunnel caused him a bit of worry, but, aside from his aversion to large alien-type bugs, he felt he could handle those easily enough. At least right now he did. Before heading out though he took the remaining carcass of meat off the stick where he'd positioned it near the fire to keep it warming, and laid the bulk of meat on the military plate that came with all standard mess kits and placed it on the ground within reach of the injured man.  
"Just in case," he offered with a quirked grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. He wanted the other man to have food within reach in case he didn’t come back. The two looked at each other but neither said it out loud. Then he stood up straight again and looked toward the rear of the cavern, to the tunnel just to the right of the last tunnel he'd tried.  
To the left was the narrower "spider tunnel" that he'd tried earlier, hoping to stay away from the larger tunnel to the right of it. It would seem to be obvious that if there was a way out of here, it might be found at the opposite end of what looked like a main tunnel system, but it was the shifting sounds he'd heard the night before coming from that direction that had given him pause to go there first. Sheppard sensed rather strongly that they were not alone in this cave and he was certain it wasn't the spiders he was feeling. Taking a deep breath he blew it out decisively and stepped over the rock he'd used as a pillow earlier.  
"Colonel..?" John said as he rounded the campfire. He looked back at Steven sitting on the ground. He had the fire and plenty of wood to keep it fed, he had his gun at his hip for self-defense and he had fresh meat and a bottle of water. He'd be set for a while at least, John figured. Telling him to stay alert, or giving any other advice regarding staying on guard under the circumstances, seemed rather patronizing at this point. Sheppard was well-aware that the other officer had just as much time in the hot seat as he'd had and as Caldwell had reminded him earlier, he'd been shot down enough in his own time sitting in his own fighter cockpit, and he knew the drill.  
John met his gaze and simply nodded. "I'll be back."  
Caldwell shifted around and looked at Sheppard as he rested his pistol on his lap. "You'd better be. You leave me with the dishes and gathering the firewood on my own and I will have you court-martialed."  
John turned back to him with a grin. "Yes, Sir, I'll keep that in mind."  
Caldwell gave a tight grin then it vanished. “Watch your step in there."  
"I'll do my best," he assured the Colonel. "See you soon." He took a deep breath and let it out then he headed for the tunnel with his weapon at the ready.

# # #

Search and Rescue Team  
Campsite, early evening

By the time Ronon had completed his portion of setting up camp, someone had a blazing fire going, coffee brewing and real food cooking. They had stocked up on easy-to-fix camp foods hoping to keep the less palatable MREs for emergency use if needed. A small creek nearby had allowed them to water the renquins and refill their canteens. Multiple safety checks of Ziya's water had shown no microbes or other harmful elements so they were also able to reserve their water purifying tablets on the off chance they might need them should they have to refill from less pristine water supplies.  
Strolling over to where everyone else was starting to gather, Ronon dropped to the ground, leaning back against a convenient boulder to stretch out his long legs. Fortunately, two weeks of constant riding back and forth from the government buildings to the tavern and on sight-seeing excursions had toughened him up for the saddle. Still, he could feel the ache settling into his upper legs and was grateful to be sitting on something that was not moving.  
"We made good time today," he mentioned to Teyla and Rodney, "all things considered.”  
“Yes, well…” Rodney began to reply and Ronon gave him a broad stare. “Unless we run into really inclement weather, I think we may beat the two-day estimate Sam and I generously allowed for getting to the search area."  
"Well, I could keep going ya’ know. Spot out the trail ahead for a few miles... wait for you guys to catch up in the morning." Ronon was having a real issue with patience at this point. "I can move a lot faster alone..." he offered, really hoping Teyla or Sam would think that was a really good option.  
"That might be true," Sam said, moving to join him. "We all know you're a very skilled and very talented tracker, Ronon. But you're not familiar with this terrain. If you get lost out there, that's three people that we're going to be looking for instead of two. And at least we‘re pretty sure the first two are together in the same place. And if you take Ioann with you, then we're down one experienced guide also."  
“Our only experienced guide,” Teyla added with a sympathetic and understanding grin.  
“Yeah, but… two days? That's a long time if they're injured. As it is, it's nearly night time..." he worried mostly about the two lost men being unprotected or defenseless against nocturnal predators.  
Sam laid a hand against his arm. "I know you're worried about him," she said in a gentle tone. "We all are. But going off alone isn't going to do Colonel Sheppard any favors. The best thing that you can do for him right now is to rest and be ready to head out with the rest of us at first light."  
Ronon conceded that she was right even though he really didn't want to. He nodded reluctantly and took the dish of food someone handed him over his shoulder. "Thanks. Okay, I'll wait. We work as a team..."  
Carson had paused in picking at his meal as he listened to Ronon and Sam speaking. Her gentle concern seemed to settle the Satedan and perhaps refocus him on the rest of the team as well. Ronon's reply seemed to verify that. Had the big man decided to go on his own, Beckett had fully intended to request to accompany him. He sighed slightly and pushed his food container away.  
Once dinner was completed, Ronon tossed his dish to the ground near the fire and stood up. He was restless and anxious and he just needed to move about. He walked a short distance from the others, just out of the heat of the fire and crouched down to peer into the jungle darkness, as if willing his thoughts and concerns to John. To let him know they were on their way.  
Teyla walked up quietly behind Ronon. She was silent, but not under the illusion that her approach was un-noticed by the hyper-alert hunter. "Ronon," she said softly. She moved up next to her friend and crouched down beside him. "I believe John is alive. I do not know how to explain it, but I think I would 'know' if he were not. Do you not feel the same?"  
Ronon turned to look at her and thought about her words. "I hope that's true, but no... I don't get those sensations like you do. I wish I did. Maybe if I did sense that it'd be easier to relax." He shifted his body just enough to put his rear down on a small rock beside him, still looking out into the jungle's darkness. "Is this thing like a real connection you feel? Or is it just wishful thinking?" he asked, really wanting to know if her feelings were the same with John as they were when she could sense the Wraith.  
"Well…“ Teyla thought about it for a moment, “It is not the same as with the Wraith. That type of 'knowing' is very physical, like something lightly touching my skin or breathing on my neck. The feeling now is in my heart, in my breast. It is heavy, but it is not empty. It is not a hollow feeling. I could not tell you what direction to go, but it is more than hope, more than 'wishful thinking' as you say."  
Very quietly, Sam left her place beside the fire and trailed Teyla over to where she squatted next to Ronon. She stood a slight distance away, trying to discern if the conversation they were having was private and personal, not wanting to intrude if it was. As she caught the gist of their talk, she moved forward, standing to Ronon's other side and without thinking, Sam rested her hand on the Satedan's shoulder very lightly.  
"Jack said very much the same thing the last time we had to presume Daniel dead. He said that he would know if Daniel was truly dead. Sometimes all we need to keep hope alive... is simple faith. I feel as Teyla does... I do not believe John and Colonel Caldwell are dead."  
"That's because they're not dead," Ronon replied, as if making the statement out loud would cause that fact to be true. He looked up at Colonel Carter as if asking her to join them, to let her energy add to theirs to be sent out to their friend and leader. "Sheppard saved my life, you know," he mentioned to Sam.  
He'd probably mentioned it to her a dozen times, but his indebtedness to the man had turned into one of the tightest friendships Ronon had ever had. That alone surprised him and he seemed to take the responsibility of Sheppard's protection as a personal indenture. "Have a seat," he told Carter and reached over to hold Teyla's hand for a moment.  
Sam sank down to the ground, crossing her legs Indian style. She smiled at Ronon as the Satedan mentioned Sheppard having saved his life. Ronon had mentioned it before and Sam had read the mission reports, but that was not something unworthy of repeating... often.  
"In a way, he saved mine too," she responded, but didn't elaborate as memories of her transfer from the SGC to Atlantis came back to her. If not for the day spent talking with John Sheppard, it was possible Samantha Carter would have ultimately resigned from the program. The same program that had been her life for the last thirteen years and the only place she'd ever felt as if she truly belonged and made a difference.  
"He seems to do that a lot," Ronon mentioned thoughtfully. "He saved Teyla and her people from the Wraith... then me... and you. Wonder how he does it," he considered. "He saves lives and then pulls us in to become his best friends. Seems to me he could find an easier way to make friends," Ronon offered a half grin at the thought.  
Ronon's large hand on hers was such a comfort, so much strength flowed from the man. Teyla clapped her other hand over his and held it there, solid and affirming. Not letting go, she sat back, joining Sam in this Indian style position.  
John Sheppard meant more to Teyla than perhaps anyone ever had. They had struggled to outwit, outrun, out gun many enemies together. They had struggled against their own inner demons to reach out to each other. They had clambered over personal obstacles that seemed determined to cut them off from each other at every turn. But every clever twist, each step taken in advancing or retreating, every shot fired - real or emotional - in defending one another, each road block and check point seemed to move them toward a single point on the horizon.  
Logic told her that their paths were parallel, but her vision showed her those parallel lines converging somewhere up ahead. Right now she knew there were still two lines; John's and hers. John Sheppard was out there, but he was right here too and they were just going to have to wait until those lines converged.  
She returned Ronon's half-smile, "Good friends are hard to make. Sometimes they’re harder to keep, or at least to keep track of." She squeezed his hand. "That's why we will find John and Colonel Caldwell. We keep our friends and we keep them close and safe."


	11. Chapter 11

<><><><>

Chapter Eleven

As Teyla spoke to Ronon, Sam's gaze was caught by movement at the campsite. The others were cleaning up and settling in and deciding she really couldn't add much to Teyla's comments other than to nod, she stood up.  
"We will find them," Sam assured them, giving Teyla a nod she clasped Ronon's shoulder briefly before turning toward camp. "I'm going to check the renquins and turn in. I want us all rested and ready to hit the trail by first light." Leaving the two teammates on their own, knowing they'd draw strength from one another, Sam headed back across the camp toward where the renquins were tethered.  
The pair sat quietly together for a while longer and then agreed to lie down to get some much needed rest. Making their way back into the center of camp near the fire, Ronon offered to keep first watch. Hopping up onto a boulder near the perimeter demarcation line lit by the light of the campfire, his pistol in hand, he perched there for two hours before the next person awoke and offered to take sentry duty so he could catch a nap as well.  
Sam watched Ronon move away and then turned, sweeping her gaze across the rest of their team. She smiled at Rodney as she strode past him. He looked up at her as she passed, looking lost and sad too. For just a moment, she laid her hand against his shoulder and gave a light squeeze before moving on.  
Support and understanding; how many times had they been here? How often had she and SG-1 been in this same predicament? In this exact situation; searching for Jack or Teal'c or Daniel. As times changed and SG-1 evolved, they'd found themselves in similar situations with Cameron and Vala too.  
It never made the worrying easier or the heart lighter when the time came, but the coping with unanswered questions… that became easier. You learned how to bury it, how to focus your mind on some other activity or thought. But human thought and human emotion were not always easy to suppress, they had a way of sneaking up on even the most determined and professional mindset.  
It was those thoughts that had Sam striding toward the edge of the camp, where the doctor stood staring into the darkness. She smiled at the ever present cup of coffee held in the other woman‘s hand. "I thought it was a doctor's job to caution against the perils of high caffeine intake?"  
Madison Garman glanced over and a single corner of her mouth crooked into a slight grin. "Something like that. Growing up my mother's favorite chastisement was, 'Do as I say, not as I do'. I think it serves me well as a physician."  
Sam chuckled. "I think that practice serves all of us well from time to time." She clasped her hands in front of her and regarded the younger woman for a moment. She had been quiet, subdued but no different than the rest of them. "What we discussed before, aboard the Daedalus, I was only looking out for the team's best interests."  
After everyone had been checked and dispersed to get the ordered rest, Sam had gone in search of the newest addition to the Atlantis medical staff. She wouldn't assign the woman to a search and rescue mission if she could not fully handle it. Her private life was just that, Sam had no need or want to know - except where it interfered with her work, which was the only reason for the discussion she‘d had with her.  
"Oh I know, Sam. I do," she inclined her head. "I'm more worried about them," she told the blonde, nodding her head toward Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney. Madison shook her head. "I grew up a military brat. Even if I hadn't, I've been with the SGC long enough to know the risks. Am I worried? - Of course - about both of them.  
“Am I more worried about Steven? - Absolutely. That's not an emotional response that I have any control over, but… I also know that anything could’ve happened. They could’ve had to make a quick hard landing, for safety’s sake, and they're both perfectly fine and they‘ve got us all worrying for nothing.”  
Sam nodded and her expression lightened a bit as she listened to Dr. Garman talk it out. She’d heard the rumors as well back on Atlantis about the good doctor and the hardnosed Colonel. It had been kind of Carson to ask her to come along to help him out in case the extra hands were needed but Sam had worried about her personal attachment.  
“They could also be seriously injured,” Garman added and Sam met her gaze evenly. “I won't worry too much about facts that I don't have." She gave a shrug and a half grin. "You've been in the service long enough to know that there are cold hard facts about your job that the rest of us, civilians, have to be willing to accept if we want to be involved with you. You accept it, you respect it, you learn to live with it… or you walk away." She smiled then, "I haven't walked away yet. I can‘t."  
"I believe you," Sam replied and smiled at her. "And I believed you this morning when you told me that. I just wanted to be sure you were doing okay."  
"Oh," Madison grinned. "Yeah, I'm good. I've settled into a frame of mind that tells me that the two of them deserve all the frustrations they're facing as they try to put up with each other... for putting us all through this."  
"Doctor!" Sam laughed. "I'm not sure that's entirely appropriate."  
"Oh, I'm sure it's probably not," Madison smirked, "but it's helped me keep my thoughts level about this whole thing." She lifted her coffee mug, eyes sparkling deviously over the rim. "Just don't tell him I said that."  
It was Sam's turn to smirk deviously, "Which him?"  
The doctor's lips pursed as she considered the question. "Better make that both of them… or is it neither?"  
"Good thinking," Sam laughed with her softly, shaking her head at the other woman before saying good night and leaving her to her thoughts. As Sam walked back to the center of camp, nearly their entire party was either bedded down now or heading that way. Before climbing inside her sleeping tent, Sam turned her eyes to the starry sky and wished their missing a pleasant evening, hoping it was indeed possible for them. 

# # #

Jumper Crash Site  
Volga Mtn. Range  
Evening, Night 2

Sheppard and Caldwell had spent another restless night together after John had returned later into the evening than he’d planned. In fact, he’d been gone nearly five hours, searching for a source that would provide them fresh water to drink. He knew they had to be close to it as often as he’d come across the cool liquid flowing freely down the sides of the tunnel walls in some spots.   
At one point, he’d pressed his fingers to the wall and the water changed its direction to flow down the length of his arm and fall from the point of his elbow in a steady stream. Sheppard’s eyes lit up at the luck of such a discovery. He smiled as he took out the water collection jug and opened it. He crouched down near the wall, facing it and put his hand flat against the wall again. The cold water changed its directional flow again and raced down the length of his arm to stream off his elbow and straight toward the bucket. John only had to shift it slightly to the left until the mouth of the jug was catching the flow.  
It was easy work and John wished he’d thought to do this sooner. But the extra time inside the tunnel had allowed him to make a few interesting discoveries. Such as, there was no fruit to be found in this tunnel since it never opened up to an overhead gopher hole. The tunnel was completely sealed and often felt rather humid and stifling. At certain points he was sure he caught the odor of something dead in there.  
He also had stopped a couple of times, holding his breath, sure he not only heard something move in there with him, but was sure he heard it breathing. Whatever it was, he was either losing his mind or something big was certainly living in this cavern with them. Once he had the water collected, John adjusted the weight and fit of his gear for the trek back to the Jumper camp.

# # #

Daylight had faded and he was getting desperate. The mother had been gone for many darks now and his hunting skills were not yet developed. He'd followed the scent of something unfamiliar for a very long time now. Without the mother, he easily became lost and frustrated. Anger warred with hunger and he growled low in his throat. He was not fully developed yet, standing less than three feet at the shoulder, but his great fangs were already larger than many other hunting cats. His tawny-gray coat, that hid him so well in the rippling shadows of the forest, was matted and dirty without his mother‘s care.  
The scents were unusual. He'd never smelled this type of creature before. The big thing that lay still in the center of the cavern didn't interest him. It was too large and smelled really strange. But the two-legged creatures that came and went from it... they appeared weaker than he and slower and one was definitely injured or sick... he could smell that too. The young cat lay still in the shadowed alcove, watching the prey. The fire was unnerving, but he was sure he could take the sick one. Before he could make his move though, the other two-legged returned from the tunnel and the young cat shifted deeper into the shadows.

# # #

Search and Rescue Team  
Yrsa Province, outskirts  
Day 3 – Morning

Dawn began to break and with it the search team members began to wake. Seeing to the renquins, breakfast, washing up and breaking camp, the various members greeted each other quietly as they tried to shake off the little sleep they‘d gotten. The mountain air was noticeably cooler now despite being a tropical jungle as the Great Winds were beginning to saturate the vegetation and undergrowth. The night time litanies of animal and insect calls were giving way to their daylight counterparts.  
In the cave of the downed Puddle Jumper, many of the same activities were taking place amongst the indigenous animal life on Ziya. Nocturnal animals were coming home to the cave to rest and it was in these pre-dawn hours when the sounds John had been hearing since their first day there became more obvious and Ziya's version of fruit bats were flocking into the cave over Steven and John’s heads by the thousands. They were large, but rather peaceful animals, who didn't seem to mind at all sharing their cave with the Jumper’s two man crew.

# # #

When John woke he was again greeted with a wry grin from Caldwell. He blinked at the other man and slowly moved his stiffened muscles with a groan. Each time he lay down to rest he woke up feeling worse and grimaced heavily as he forced himself to sit up.  
“What are you grinning at?” John asked, nearly snarling at the ranking officer.  
“Look,” Caldwell turned his head and pointed out the back of the Jumper.  
John squinted into the dim area and then shifted to his knees to stand up. Caldwell watched him closely, realizing the crash and the long hours the younger officer was putting in each day to keep their survival an assurance was beginning to take a toll on him. He watched as Sheppard got to his feet and tried to work out some kinks without making too big a show of it, but the limping gait down the ramp told Steven that John needed a day off – even just half a day.  
“Is that fruit?” John asked as he slowly descended the ramp and looked around the large cave.  
“Yeah, I woke up to the sound of thumping as they hit the ground,” Steven told him. “The winds are knocking them from the trees above.”   
John looked up at the hole in the ceiling and listened to the sounds of the winds batting the trees he could see withstanding the gale forces. He turned back to look at Caldwell, who smiled.   
“Manna from heaven..?” Steven suggested to the younger man. John looked back at the fruits scattered around the dirt floor of the cave and nodded slowly. “I want you to take some down time, Sheppard,” Caldwell told him and John turned to him with a confused frown. “You’re pushing yourself and I want you to rest.”  
John stood in place considering the Colonel’s words. Caldwell realized that Sheppard was weighing his words as if they were a suggestion so he interrupted John’s thoughts by adding, “That’s an order.”   
John’s eyes slowly rose from their unfocused stare toward the ground to look at Caldwell. The injured officer was staring at him pointedly, apparently expecting no rebuttal. John nodded and then raised a hand toward the bounty on the ground.  
“Can I collect these first?” he asked.  
“Yep, and that’s it. At least until after lunch…” Caldwell told him. He knew Sheppard felt the need to keep moving, but even a horse would run itself to death before it would realize it’s in trouble. Steven owed Sheppard at least as much to look out for him when he wasn’t doing it for himself.


	12. Chapter 12

<><><><>

Chapter Twelve

Search and Rescue Team  
Day 3- Breaking Camp

After securing the renquins and seeing them fed and watered, Lorne and Ronon walked companionably toward the main camp, both still chuckling and exchanging taunts and teasing from a rather unnerving incident with one of the multi-legged locals. "Well, you know, if anyone is going to be spider bait, it's you, big guy," Lorne laughed, "After all, it was those dreadlocks of yours that attracted it. I think it was trying to find a nesting place in there... or mate with it, not sure which."  
"That's nasty," Ronon replied with a chuckle, pushing Evan carefully with a gentle shove to his shoulder.  
"Hey, don't look at me," Lorne said, trying to push the big man back, "not my fault that a member of the local fauna found you attractive."  
"It just mistook my hair for another spider," Ronon chuckled as he sat down for breakfast.  
Lorne took a seat near the fire, pretending to gaze at the other man's hair critically. "I wonder why?" he responded with a wry expression. Ronon tossed a quick glance toward Evan and shot his hand out like lightning, flicking Lorne in the head with his finger causing the other man to whine. "Owwww..." Lorne rubbed his head while sending a blue-eyed glare in Ronon's direction. "Physical violence is uncalled for."  
"But fun," Ronon grinned back.  
"Fun for whom exactly?" Lorne asked challengingly. Ronon simply grinned as he let the question hang and dug into the meal handed to him.  
Sam chuckled at their actions from where she sat nursing a cup of coffee and waited for the sun to rise higher in the morning sky. "Boys," her tone held a warning tone, but her eyes were dancing. "Don't make me have to sit you in opposite corners."  
“Yes, ma’am,” Lorne acknowledged with a grin; shaking his head he concentrated on the meal and filling his belly before the hard work of breaking camp got underway.  
Soon after breakfast was ended they had the camp cleared and packed up. While Sam tended to last minute details, Lorne swung himself up onto his big renquin and spun the animal around to bring it up beside Ronon. "You and Ioann take point. The terrain looks like rough going today, if needed we'll trade out point positions in a couple of hours."  
Ronon nodded to that and, turning to the rest of the team, Lorne called out, "Everyone else will fall in behind Ronon. Dr. McKay and I will bring up the six."  
Rodney looked up at him as he finished squaring away his own gear and gingerly mounted his animal. Teyla held the reins for him as she waited patiently and then gave him a smile as he settled back into the saddle. Handing over the reins she moved forward to find a riding partner and found Carson sitting astride his renquin waiting calmly for the journey to continue. Sam paired up with Madison and fell into line behind their point guards.  
The team moved their mounts on the trail with quiet conversation as everyone took their positions. Lorne reined in his big gray as it tried to follow the one before it until Sam had moved ahead. He then dropped into formation next to McKay’s mount as they watched the rest find an order ahead of them.  
"Good morning, Doctor," Lorne said to his companion. "Were you able to get any sleep?"  
"Enough to suffice,” McKay grumbled, not trying to sound put out, “You?“  
“Enough,“ Lorne nodded. “Someone else will stand the watch tonight. Ronon and I will catch up then," Evan replied affably.  
The team moved along steadily at a careful pace throughout the early morning hours. As the sun rose higher into the sky Carson called out to nobody in particular that his hind side could use with a short break so Sam sent Ronon ahead at a brisker pace with Ioann to see if there was a good spot up ahead for them to stop.  
It was twenty minutes later when Ronon rode back from the short foray ahead to state they were approaching a clearing. Ioann had stayed there to scout out the area more closely. At a nod from Sam, Lorne rode ahead to catch up with the Satedan and the two of them went ahead to help their guide check out the clearing.  
It seemed peaceful enough with a clear, spring-fed pool close by. From the other side of the clearing, the trail began an even steeper climb that hugged a rugged cliff face. This was going to start getting a bit hairy he figured from the look of that rock face.  
Glancing at Ronon, Lorne said, "This looks like as good a place as any to take a break. I'll go back and tell the others if you want to finish securing the perimeter." Ronon nodded, dismounted and tethered his renquin, preferring to recon on foot. Evan reined his animal around and rode back to the waiting team. "There's a clearing just up ahead. Ronon's making sure it's secure but it looks like a good place to give us, and the animals, a brief rest."  
Sam nodded and led them on as he dropped back into the line, bringing up the rear with McKay. Ten minutes of riding brought them out into the lush clearing. Rather than tether the renquins, they were hobbled with soft restraints that wouldn't harm them but would keep them from going far if spooked. The animals wandered immediately to the edge of the pool for a drink then began to graze.  
The team dispersed to stretch their legs and pull out the makings for an early lunch. Evan headed for the pool and stripping to the waist, he took advantage of the crisp, clean water to wash up and cool off. He crouched down at the edge and splashed the clear water over his arms and chest before pouring some from his hands over his head, rubbing the ache from the back of his neck with a sigh.  
With a grateful groan, Sam lifted herself out of the saddle to slide down the renquin's side. She stood in one spot for a minute while the feeling returned to her legs and feet. She then took another moment to stretch out stiff muscles before she set to securing her gear for the mid-day break. She took her canteen from the saddle intending to carry it to the pool. Beside her, Madison was doing the same thing. As they fished the containers from their saddles the women shared a grin.  
"Whoever said horseback riding was relaxing obviously didn't spend several days doing it," Madison winced as she stretched her legs out again with a groan.  
Sam laughed with her and then added, "It beats walking."  
"Granted," Garman concurred without pause.  
The two women strode toward Teyla who was setting out lunch provisions for the group. “Are those empty, Teyla?” Sam asked her, indicating the other canteens and water containers.  
“Some could use a refill,” Teyla smiled and gathered up the nearly empty ones, handing them to the two women. “Thank you.”  
Taking the other canteens with them, Sam and Maddie made their way to the pool. Both women stopped short at the sight that greeted them as Major Lorne sat near the water’s edge.  
"Hoo boy," The words were out of Madison's mouth before she could stop them. Her cheeks immediately colored as Sam turned to her, wide-eyed. Before she could apologize for the lack of decorum, she was quickly chastised by her friend.  
“Maddie!“ Sam scolded.  
“What? A girl can look…” Dr. Garman reasoned with a dramatic southern twang. "Now if we can just get the other one down there," Madison teased.  
“Madison, you are incorrigible.”  
“I like the male form,” Maddie offered her defense with a reasonable calm, but a haughty expression that made Sam grin. “Why do you think I became a doctor?” she finished with a wink that made them both laugh heartily. Sam’s laughter died down as she stared at the officer’s back.  
“Oh god, I should not be…” Sam started, but was interrupted.  
“Shouldn’t be what?” Maddie asked. “Shouldn’t have a pulse? Come on, girl. Who wouldn’t look?” She leaned close to Sam and conspired a deal, “I promise I won’t tell.” Grinning, she continued down the shallow incline to the watering hole while the Colonel followed at a more sedate pace. She did manage, she hoped, to school her features again before reaching the pool.  
Footfalls behind him alerted Lorne that he had company and he straightened his back, turning to see who it was. Seeing Sam and Maddie, his first thought was to apologize for his state of undress, but decided that would make things more awkward for all of them. Instead he settled for the truth.  
“I couldn't let the chance go by to clean up and cool off," he mentioned and then leaned down to reach for his shirt and vest.  
"Oh no, please. Don't cover up on our account." Garman’s eyes were still dancing with mischief. She crouched down near the pool to begin filling the canteens. "You can just pretend we're not even here."  
"It's okay, Major," Sam told him, sending a disapproving glare at the back of the Doctor's head. "I think we could all do with a little cooling off."  
Lorne grinned at the double entendre pointed at the fun-loving medical officer. He stood up then and donned his shirt, wrapping the sash around the waist to keep it gathered to his body.  
“I’ll see if Teyla needs any help with the supplies,” he offered and Sam grinned back at him knowingly.  
“Thank you, Major.”


	13. Chapter 13

<><><><>

Chapter Thirteen

Carson was helping Teyla ration out snacks of fruit, dried meat strips, and the ever-present energy bars. Maddie and Sam had gathered the canteens and struck out toward the water and Major Lorne had also disappeared, Teyla assumed also toward the water.  
Ronon had yet to reappear after setting off to secure the perimeter. Ioann was also absent, but from what Teyla had observed of the young man, he was very much like Ronon in being a practiced scout and was almost sure to be conducting recon to his own satisfaction.  
Since they were alone in the clearing, Teyla had her personal intuition on alert and her P-90 within easy reach as she sat on the partially buried boulders clustered just off-center in the open area. She was not particularly hungry, but nibbled on the chewy strip of meat that Carson had handed her and Rodney. She sipped sparingly from the full canteen she had held onto when Maddie and Sam had collected the others.  
Carson was keeping alert as well and came to kneel on one knee several feet to Teyla's left, facing the opposite direction. His own P-90 was clipped to the strap that hung around his neck. Together, they had a full 360 degree view of the field as Rodney sat nearby wolfing down his morning snack.  
"We have a visitor," Carson mentioned softly, with a gentle smile as he nodded to indicate someone's approach from behind Teyla‘s back. Beckett’s demeanor indicated no alarm so Teyla turned her head calmly to see what he was seeing.  
"Hey there, little fella, you lose your way?” Carson asked the small, white, furry animal lumbering toward them.  
It looked very similar to a small sloth or the Cuscus from Earth’s tropical jungles. It stopped and looked at them calmly, blinking slowly as it assessed the pair. He, or she, as it was not possible to tell from their angle of observation, changed course and proceeded toward the pack of provisions.  
"Ah, that would be a 'no,'" Carson said, rising smoothly, he approached the animal. It seemed easily distracted and turned its attention to sniffing his pants where they tucked into the top edge of Carson’s boot and then looked up at him slowly.  
Apparently, he met with approval, for the little creature proceeded to climb up his body, hand over hand, foot over foot, like a native climbing a coconut tree. Its fingers and toes gripped onto the doctor‘s belt and vest, until it reached his shoulders, whereupon the furry visitor settled as if on a perch.  
Carson patted its head, enjoying the thick padded feel of its short dense fur. He walked back over near Teyla and squatted down opposite her again. Rodney looked at the animal with a slight curl in his lip as he continued to eat. If it wasn’t a cat, he didn’t have much use for it; that had been his feeling about most animals since he was a child.  
"These little guys were all over Base Camp the last two weeks," he told Teyla. “They are very docile and extremely friendly. Apparently they’ve been habituated to the human presence here for a long time.”  
Teyla grinned at Carson’s apparent fondness for them and then watched as it turned to climb down Beckett’s back and nosed its way around his feet. It sniffed at his knee one more time, turned and with a single-minded purpose, marched over to Teyla.  
Teyla's left eyebrow rose slightly as she observed the critter. He was not at all interested in her boots, but stood up boldly on long legs and reached out with one front paw to pull on her wrist, drawing her hand down toward his inquisitive twitching nose. His little black eyes never left the piece of meat she held in her fingers.  
She allowed him to pull her arm down several inches before halting its progress. Stretching his nose toward the possible meal, he suddenly pulled his head back and dropped to the ground, apparently offended or at least significantly disappointed at the non-vegetarian snack. Teyla and Carson looked at each other, paused and then broke into light laughter. It was the first time in several days that Teyla had allowed herself an unguarded moment.  
Leaving Dr. Garman and Colonel Carter to guard one another's backs, Lorne picked up his weapons and turned back toward the clearing. A quick glance was all he needed to confirm that the renquins were still grazing peacefully, most of them standing head to tail so they could swat insects off one another with their long, luxurious tails.  
Just as he reached the outer area of the clearing where they'd dropped their gear and the renquin’s tack, Ronon returned from the jungle and gave Lorne a simple nod indicating all was clear. Lorne nodded in return and tossed the Satedan one of the MREs he’d just pulled from a pack as he walked over.  
"Maddie and Sam are filling canteens. I don't know where Ioann is. We're only stopping long enough to rest the animals and grab a quick meal, and then heading out again," Lorne told Ronon before the other man could question how soon they'd be hitting the trail again. It seemed to be Ronon’s only concern and Evan understood.  
Ioann was on his way back to the clearing when he halted, spotting several bushes full of heavy green fruit. Each fruit was smaller than an Earth golf ball with smooth flesh and a lovely sweet taste. The fruit was a long-time favorite of the Ziya people, but was in limited quantities now due to how far into the jungle one had to go to find it. After gathering several for each member of the group, and then a few more for Colonels Sheppard and Caldwell to give to them when they were found, Ioann headed back. "Here,” he told the Lanteans as he handed each three of the fruits, “pack these... they are incredibly delicious, very sweet, and they lend a natural energy boost."  
Lorne took the proffered fruit and, deciding to give one a try and save his power bar for later, he bit into it with a hum of delight. "Thanks, Ioann. Delicious,” he agreed with a nod. “These will come in handy. Nice break from the power bars, too."  
He bit into the fruit again, savoring the juice and sweet-tart flavor. Nodding his approval, he polished it off quickly followed by a long drink from his canteen. Noting that Maddie and Sam were starting back toward the clearing, Lorne waited until both were within hearing range to call out. “I think we should start gearing back up. The next part of the trail is going to be rough going,” he informed everyone. “Double check your tack for safety… double check each other’s,” he amended as he headed off to collect the animals.

# # #

Jumper Crash site  
Volga Mountain Range  
Mid-morning

Sheppard worked his way through a second mango; which he’d decided to call them because they looked like a mango on the outside and, well, just giving things names seemed to make them more friendly and comforting. Caldwell finished his and dropped the large pit on the metal plate beside him and picked up the chunk of rabbit meat that rounded off his breakfast. He glanced at Sheppard as the two of them ate in relative silence, but the silence was starting to work on Steven’s nerves.  
The winds above them lent nothing to their hopes of being found, especially by a flyover, which if they remembered correctly and they were both sure they did, was the only way to spot their location. Without a bird’s eye view, there was very little hope that the Jumper would be discovered. They both knew it, they both were thinking it, but neither wanted to voice it aloud.  
“So…” Caldwell said suddenly, making Sheppard’s heart jump into his throat at the sudden sound in the cave‘s silence.  
John pulled the fruit away from his lips and licked the juice from them, wiping at his chin with the sleeve of his shirt. “Sir?”  
“So let’s… talk,” Caldwell offered, making a weird face at the way that sounded.  
“Sir?” John repeated, looking perplexed.  
“Will you stop that?” Caldwell growled.  
“Sorry, Sir,” John apologized, even though he wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for. He’d been caught off-guard and apologizing had become a sort of specialty for him. If they could designate it as an MOS he’d be an expert at it already. Caldwell gnawed at the cooked meat they’d prepared the night before and John watched him for a few minutes. When Caldwell didn’t look up again, John glanced around and then shifted on his rock.  
“You… wanted to say something?” John asked, trying to prompt the Colonel to finish his earlier thought as he watched him with a confused expression over the small daytime campfire they kept.  
Caldwell looked up at him as he bit off a chunk of meat and chewed it. “What?” he said, around the mouthful.  
“You said you wanted to talk…” John mentioned.  
“No, I didn’t,” Caldwell refuted as if suggesting John had imagined that completely.  
“Didn’t you just say ‘let’s talk’?” John asked.  
“Yes,” Caldwell concurred and John gave a nod of relief. “But we don’t have to. It was just a thought.”  
“Oh,” John remarked as he swallowed. He slowly began to eat again as if waiting for another comment.  
He didn’t have to wait long.  
“So what exactly happened in Afghanistan?” Caldwell suddenly asked.  
The question surprised Sheppard even though it was asked very casually as if it was an everyday conversation topic. Then John imagined that, perhaps, for Caldwell and others like him, it could very well be an everyday topic of conversation. Rumors about any black mark stretched far and wide in the military and having several made a man an instant pariah amongst his peers and a disappointing failure, in the highest degree, to his superiors.  
“What?” John finally was able to push out of his throat.  
Caldwell looked up from his meal and pinned Sheppard with his eyes. “You have numerous black marks in your file, Sheppard. Many are hardly court-martial offenses… more like, the mischievousness of youth. Hardly malicious or injurious,” Steven pointed out.  
John’s expression went slack and his eyes lowered, staring into the low flame in front of him. His brow furrowed as his memories rose up and his expression turned downward into a heavy frown. Steven watched him, tilting his head slightly with interest.  
“What happened in Afghanistan that ended up with you getting exiled to the ends of the Earth?”  
John’s eyes cleared a bit and he looked back at Caldwell. He thought about that question and then took in a deep breath, letting it out in a long sigh. “I didn’t feel exiled,” John told him. “I know that’s what it was meant to be, but it’s not how I felt about it. I liked it there,” he told Caldwell.  
“You… liked it… there.” Steven echoed. “In the Antarctic…”  
“Yes, Sir.”  
“Okay,” Caldwell remarked, disbelieving he was hearing that. “Why would anyone enjoy the South Pole?”  
John shrugged and twisted himself on his perch slightly continuing to gnaw on his meal as he explained. “It was about as far away from ‘the world’ as I could get at the time. Being out there, on The Ice… it was great. I did a winter over… talk about isolated.” He grinned with the memory.  
Caldwell considered that statement as he looked at Sheppard, the glow of the fire casting odd shadows on the other’s face. He sighed with a thought and then observed aloud, “You don’t like ‘the world’ much, do you.”  
Sheppard kept his eyes on his plate for a moment before responding. “The world doesn’t like me much, Sir.”  
“Why do you say that?” Caldwell asked, his attention totally focused on John’s words and body language.  
“I’ve never really been able to do anything right according to anyone else… except maybe my mother,” John told him with a pained grin.  
“Your mother?”  
“Yeah. Yes, Sir… you know, the all supportive ‘love you unconditionally no matter what‘… that type of thing. Dave had my father’s acceptance… I had my mother’s. Not always to the understanding of my father either. Anyway, after she died I had no--” Sheppard stopped short of being able to finish that sentence. The hardest thing in any universe a man would face and have to admit to himself is ‘having nobody’.  
“Dave is your brother?” Steven asked to be sure, having noted the abrupt pause in the sentence and Sheppard nodded. “So your father turned his focus on you?” Caldwell asked.  
“He wanted me to be just like Dave,” John nodded. “There was only one thing wrong with that plan.”  
“You’re nothing like Dave,” Caldwell finished with a knowing tone.  
“Right,” Sheppard gave a wry grin. “My father had had my whole future planned out for me since I was about fourteen. And that future began with Harvard.”  
“You went to Harvard?” Caldwell spat out in surprise and John gave him a crooked smile.  
“No, Sir. I joined the Air Force.”  
“Oh,” Steven replied, understanding his father’s dilemma now.  
“Yeah,” John said, reaching down at his feet for a small branch he spotted there and tossed it into the comfortable flame.  
“That was the beginning of the end?” Caldwell asked with a tone that said he understood.  
“You could say that.”  
“You didn’t want Harvard?” Steven asked, pushing just a bit more for an insight into the younger man.  
“No, Sir. I wanted to fly,” John told him and then the thought of it made him smile in a way that made Caldwell grin while watching him. “The thought of one of his sons joining the military caused Dad to bristle. I thought he’d have a stroke by the time I was shipped to Lackland. From there I went to OCS and Flight School and that was about the end of our relationship. Not that it really was much of a relationship to begin with.”  
“Sorry to hear that. A boy should have a tight bond with his father… in my opinion,” Caldwell offered quietly as he tossed a pebble into the campfire ring. John looked over at him, as Steven held a thousand yard stare into the fire, and grinned.  
“Well, Dave did,“ John mentioned with a smile then he shrugged when Caldwell gave him a look. “My father never did like the fact that whenever he came looking for me he’d find me exploring some hole in the ground or perched at the top of the tallest tree in the north forty in a high wind storm.” John grinned at the memories.  
“Sounds to me like you were just too adventurous to become an up-and-coming business tycoon,” Caldwell offered with a bemused expression.  
“Yeah, Dad hated that,” John nodded with a smirk. “He’d always try to get me to sit down and study or pay attention when he was going over the family business annual reports. God, I hated that.”  
Caldwell grinned trying to imagine a much younger, shaggy-headed mischief-maker tied to a chair and forced to put his nose in books or industrial stock reports. He knew of Sheppard’s family’s riches and his father’s reputation in the business world. It didn’t really surprise him that John had broken ties with his family in order to fly and follow his dream.  
That was something about John Sheppard that Steven Caldwell was quickly figuring out. He might not always agree with his ways, or his manner of thinking, but he couldn’t begrudge the man for standing on his principals and convictions. That trait said a lot about a person.


	14. Chapter 14

<><><><>

Chapter Fourteen

Ziya mountain range  
Rescue team  
after lunch break

It took perhaps another fifteen minutes to get the renquins tacked back up and get started up the trail. Colonel Carter hefted herself up onto her mount and was still scowling rather heatedly at Madison, but the doctor only grinned and shrugged.  
"Is it my fault they decided to take off their clothes?" She swung up onto the back of her mount and settled herself, grinning at the memory of Ronon‘s mid-morning dip. He must‘ve gotten it in his head after Lorne had a refreshing splash bath at the water‘s edge. "I'll just have to tell Steven he should crash on rainforest covered mountains more often. It just gives me all kinds of interesting things to look at while I'm trying to save his hide."  
Sam couldn't help but snort a laugh and shook her head at the other woman. "You're horrible." Still shaking her head, she turned her mount around and began to circle the group. "Ronon, you and Ioann will take point," she nodded to the pair of them. "Teyla, I'd like you to take our six and..." she cut a slightly mischievous look toward Madison, "Dr. Garman, you take up position with her. The rest of us should fall in accordingly."  
Ioann nodded, mounting his animal easily and moving to take the point position, riding up ahead a few steps before waiting for the others. As they started away from the clearing they were forced into a more single line formation with Ioann leading the way. Behind him were Ronon and then Sam, Lorne, Rodney, Carson, Madison, and finally Teyla.  
The first hour was steep but not overly hazardous. Very soon though, the trail narrowed and pressed against the side of cliff with the other side being a sheer drop. The distance to the floor of the valley or ravine was impossible to tell due to the dense forest growing up and down the side of the mountain. The sound of rushing water could be heard distantly below causing Rodney to shudder slightly as his renquin carefully picked its way around another outcropping of tumbled boulders.  
Behind him he could hear the hooves of Dr. Beckett’s mount as it too scrambled around the outcropping. The sound of the wind drowned out any conversation he might have caught from Maddie and Teyla bringing up the rear followed faithfully by the two pack renquins. Ahead of him, Sam's renquin scrambled as the trail took a steep step up, and he smiled as she looked back at her team assessing their progress. Further ahead, Ioann's mount was just disappearing around a bend with Ronon close behind.  
Their journey continued its steep climb with the trail sometimes narrowing to nothing more than the barest hint of a footpath. The renquins proved their worth by never putting a foot down wrong during the harrowing climb. It was as they took a sharp turn that included a steep upward jump, with each renquin having to scramble up to the next precarious ledge, that disaster struck. Sam's renquin's left foot slipped and the animal gave a sideways lunge attempting to recover its footing. For a moment, it looked as if Sam was going to be pinned between her mount and the cliff as her weight had shifted suddenly in the saddle when the animal slipped to the right. Sam had been putting all of her weight to the cliff side of the renquin, mentally calculating how much it might hurt to get slammed into the rock face, but preferring that to the hundred foot drop.  
The muscles of her legs and arms strained as she fought to control the animal. She could feel herself sliding sideways from her seat and gripped the saddle tightly with her thighs. Time seemed to slow to a crawl and she was only vaguely aware that she was gritting her teeth. To one side was the solid rock wall of the mountain, to the other side of her, a steep drop of about one hundred feet to the ledge below.  
Lorne set heel to his animal to try to move forward in the hope of boxing in Sam’s mount and waiting for it to settle but, even as his renquin tried to move forward, Sam's mount half-reared up as the path under its feet started to crumble. As the renquin reared in panic, Sam and her saddle were tossed from its back and flung toward the cliff's edge.  
A startled scream was torn from her throat at the unexpected change in events. One moment it seemed as if the animal was regaining its footing, calming a bit as it moved more to the rock side of the path. The next second, she was hanging in mid-air. She felt the bottom drop out of her stomach and then she too was dropping. Instinct had her twisting, arms flying out to find something, anything, to hold on to. For a precious half second she hoped to catch onto the renquin itself and failing that, the tangled brush that edged the drop off. Her brain had shut down at this point and was relying completely upon survival instinct. She was aware of something biting into the palm of her hand and there was pain, a hot stinging pain, but it was a lot better than thin air. Sam focused on that pain and held on for dear life, even as she felt her arm receive a painful jolt.  
Rodney's heart literally missed several beats as Sam flew sideways. In mid-flight, Sam disentangled from the saddle and disappeared over the cliff as the saddle landed and tangled in brush at the edge of the drop.  
Lorne didn't even think about his actions as he flung himself from the back of his mount and dove toward the ledge. The loose shale and earth crumbled as Evan dropped flat on his belly and leaned out over the edge, letting out a huge breath as he spotted Sam holding onto a narrow shelf of rock below him with one hand. Sam looked up then, and with some horror she realized that there was no way the shelf would support then both.   
"No! Major! Get back, it isn't going to hold --"  
She never finished that sentence as the shelf crumbled and he lunged, grabbing her by one wrist. She gave a grunt of pain as her shoulder clicked and the front of her body slammed into the side of the cliff. Still, it was better than falling, only now she was faced with another dilemma.  
The crumbling shelf wouldn't hold their weight for long, even now smaller pieces were crumbling and falling away. She turned her face away to keep the debris from falling into her eyes. She wanted to tell him to let go and knew that she should tell him to, but she also knew that he wouldn't.  
Trying to ease back onto the ledge, Lorne froze as more shale and earth crumbled around them leaving him unable to reach for Sam with his other hand. "Hold on, Colonel... just hold on."  
"Haven't really got a whole lot of other choices at the moment," she managed to grunt out. Her shoulder, previously burning under the strain was now beginning to go numb. Sam gritted her teeth against it and twisted her wrist, just enough so that she could close her fingers around his wrist. She held on as tightly as she could. "You know, guys..!" she called up over Lorne’s head, "Now would be good time to impress the boss," she quipped, but in light of the situation it fell flat.  
Ronon had heard the commotion spring up behind him and had turned in his saddle to see what was going on. He barely registered the image of Sam going over the side and Major Lorne nearly following her just as Rodney shrieked for help. He dismounted his ride and grabbed the rope from the gear and ran back down the trail. He yelled and smacked the other renquins to move up the trail a bit, pulling a second rope from Lorne's saddle.  
Quickly setting the loop in one end of a rope he prepared to anchor the Major. He could see the shoulder of the cliff crumbling under the weight of the two already there, so putting his immense weight over there too didn't seem like a good idea.  
"Lorne!" he called to the other man. "Raise your right foot. I'm going to anchor you with this rope, just in case."  
With the ground as unsteady as it was, there was not too much that Ioann could do that would not put Sam and Major Lorne at more risk. He grabbed the reins of the renquins as they moved up the path toward him and slid off his own mount quickly.  
While the others were scrambling to the edge of the cliff in the Colonel's aid, Madison stayed exactly where she was. She slowly, and carefully, backed her mount away from the commotion then slid to the ground beside the mare.  
"Secure the pack animals," she told Teyla and took the reins of her companion’s renquin, so the Athosian could move to their rear to secure the other animals. Then, holding both reins in one hand, Madison reached behind her with the other and undid the clasps holding the medical kit in place on the back of her saddle. She wanted it in hand and ready if she were needed up ahead. Carson tossed her a look over his shoulder and the two doctors clicked with the same thoughts.  
Lorne did as he was told and raised his foot so Ronon could lasso his ankle, attaching the other end of the rope to Evan’s own saddle. At the very least, being anchored would keep him from going over too, if Carter was to fall as he reached for her.  
"Sam! I‘m going to throw you this rope," Ronon told her, looping an end of the other one too. "Put your hand through it. If you can get your arms through even better, but at least your wrist, okay? What I want you to do is maneuver the cliff side until you're in front of me, then I can pull you up. The ground is a lot more sturdy in front of where I’m standing," he told her and stomped his foot along the edge to show her nothing came loose.  
Ronon tossed the rope over the side and waited for her to get situated at her convenience. Lorne was anchored so she could put a bit more stress on him, as her own anchor, to get herself attached to the safety line.  
Evan’s world had narrowed to hanging on to Sam for dear life. Blue eyes gazed into blue eyes; one pair showing some fear but no panic, the other pair dark with determination. Through a haze, Lorne heard Ronon's instructions to Sam and felt the other rope whistle overhead to fall beside Sam.  
Evan tried to smile reassuringly at Sam, but was afraid all she got was a grimace as the strain on his own shoulder began to take its toll. Oblivious to the rock and shale cutting into his chest and arms, Major Lorne focused all his attention on Sam. He tried to reach the rope with his free hand to aid Sam in following Ronon's directions, but more of the ledge slipped and crumbled menacingly beneath him so he stopped.  
"Go ahead Sam, I've got you. I won't let go." Evan told her, and relieved to hear his own voice was calm, in control and assured, despite the thundering of his heart against his ribcage.  
Sam reached out with her other hand and snagged the rope. Her grip tightened around Evan's wrist and, moving as little as possible, she managed to loop it under her arm and over her head then pulled the loop tight around her. With the Major holding onto her as he was, there was no way that she'd get it under the other arm, but this would suffice. Sliding her free hand up the length of rope, she clasped her fingers around it.  
"Ronon," she called up, "I'm set!"  
Ronon pulled up the slack that lay between his position and Colonel Carter's. Once he could see and feel the tautness in the rope and felt her weight on the other end, he then instructed her in the next step.  
"Okay. Now, I want you to keep your feet on the side of the cliff, just like rappelling... and walk the cliff until you're directly beneath me. Take your time and keep your balance. Major Lorne… we'll take care of your situation in a minute if you need help there," he assured Evan.  
As Colonel Carter began her precarious trek across the cliff face to where the Satedan stood above her like a stone statue he, in turn, pulled up the slack of the rope. One foot, two feet, a yard, two yards, the more rope he drew up meant the closer she was to getting to safety.  
Once Sam made it to his position, he held the rope taut in one hand - he could now sense Rodney standing behind him and felt his weight on the rope, trying to assist him. Ronon tossed him a glance and a nod and Rodney nodded back, setting his feet in the dirt.  
Ronon bent down and clasped Sam's wrist much the same way Lorne had hold of her just a few moments before and in one smooth move he pulled her up and back onto the ledge without coming close to dragging her belly and legs against the jagged rocks at the side. The lift was clean and easy and Sam was amazed with what little effort he’d lifted her. He helped her to get balance to make sure she had her footing and left her with the two doctors who were now walking toward them. He gave her a reassuring grin and dropped that rope so she could disentangle herself.  
Ronon grinned at the poor man still hanging over the ledge off-balance and took his anchor rope in hand. Pulling the slack up from that one too, he said, "Lorne? I have your rope. You won't drop, but you'll have to try to spin yourself back onto the ledge or push yourself backward if you can."  
As the Major began his own slow escape from the precarious position, Ronon simply held onto the rope, ready to take the man's weight if the shelf gave way completely. Lorne felt Ronon take in the slack on the rope a bit, not enough to hamper his movements, but enough to keep from injuring him if the cliff suddenly gave way beneath him.  
For a moment longer, though, all he could do was lie there and gather his strength. The threatening sound of sliding shale finally mobilized him and he did a combination scurry-roll- lunge to get clear of the disintegrating cliff as Ronon reeled him in like a fish.  
“You okay?” Ronon asked as he helped to disentangle Lorne from his rope. Lorne assured him he was fine although there were spots of blood showing on his shirt from where the sharp edged shale had cut into him. “How about you?” he asked Sam.  
"Yeah, I’m okay… considering the alternative," Sam cradled her arm against her chest, and grimaced as she lifted the other hand to inspect the damage that the thin shale had done to the palm of her hand. It wasn't that bad, on either account, but it was going to hurt like fire when they cleaned it out. Sam wasn't looking forward to that.  
"Ronon," she turned her gaze to the big man, "Thank you… and everyone," she turned, sweeping her gaze across the group. "Good work. Now, let's get the rest of our people across."  
Ronon turned and looked at the trail and the rock face adjacent to it. There was barely enough room for Maddie and Teyla to cross on foot leaving the renquins to jump the narrow spot and follow carefully behind. For the next few minutes the entire team's focus was on that maneuver and only when everyone was safely across did Major Lorne think to grab a canteen. He slid down to sit on a tumbled boulder near the path where it widened up ahead. He just needed a few moments to catch his breath while Ronon retrieved Sam's saddle from the scrub and fixed it up with a new girth strap.  
Once she’d gotten across, Madison grabbed the medical kit and strode to the head of the line where Beckett was preparing to look over Major Lorne and Sam while they took a moment of rest after their ordeal. She got to Sam first as Carson took on the Major and motioned her to sit.  
"You’re hurt," she stated as she crouched down in front of Carter.  
"Doctor, it's not that bad," Sam said, but winced when the other woman took her arm to gently palpate the shoulder joint. "I think I just gave it a good wrench."  
The doctor extended the limb from the body and laid a hand against the joint as she carefully rotated it. "Not dislocated, just strained. Try to avoid putting too much pressure on it for the next day or so -- it's going to be hard, I know, but try." She reached into the kit and took out a bottle of pills, "Motrin, for the pain and inflammation." She shook two into her palm and passed them to the Colonel along with a canteen. "Now for that hand..."  
The cut wasn't deep and wasn't even bleeding any longer, but it did need cleaning and that was a painstaking process. Once she’d gotten all the grit and dirt out of it, had applied an antibiotic cream and bandaged it, she turned her attention to Beckett’s patient.  
There were tiny spots of blood seeping through his shirt, but Carson was applying antibiotic ointment to the deep lacerations on the underside of the Major‘s arms above his elbows. Once Carson had gotten that taken care of, he advised the man, "Okay, off with the shirt, lad."  
He waited for him to obey and then set to work on the shallow cuts and scrapes across his chest and belly where he'd lain against the sharp shale ledge. These were cleaned, the worst bandaged, and then Carson turned his attention to the tender shoulder. As with Sam‘s, it was strained but not overly and Dr. Garman offered him the same anti-inflammatory as Beckett finished his minor bandaging. She cautioned lightly against over-use of the pain meds, suggesting ice packs whenever possible. Now that both team members had been treated, it was time to get underway again.  
"Alright, that's enough excitement for one day," Sam gave a sharp nod, decisively. "We'll ride on until dusk, make camp and settle in for the night. Everyone be careful, we don't want a repeat incident,” she offered wearily.


	15. Chapter 15

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Chapter Fifteen

Daedalus, Pilot Locker Room  
In orbit over Ziya  
Early Afternoon

Lili'th finished suiting up and glanced over at the next locker taking note of her second seat for this mission. Today it happened to be her immediate CO, Lt. Colonel Adam Carver, as her regular co-pilot was laid up with a badly sprained ankle. She was now several months into working with AdamCarver and she was far more at ease with her Tau'ri commander than she had been in the beginning.  
He'd proven himself not only as a strong and determined commander, but also a caring and compassionate one who held no ill will toward her for her Jaffa heritage. Her trust in his leadership had grown exponentially over the months she'd served under his command. Lili'th smiled at AdamCarver as she closed her locker door and turned away.  
As Lili'th finished suiting up and turned away, Adam spared a glance at his tiny squadron leader. From the little he'd heard at the SGC, and since arriving in the Pegasus Galaxy, her piloting skills were legendary. Still... taking the second seat was not natural for Adam and he felt a twinge of remorse at relinquishing control to the female pilot, no matter how good she was reported to be. The reality was, however, that he had not logged as many hours in the F-302s as Lili'th had - something he needed to remedy - and this mission was going to require precision flying.  
Their mission detail was to follow Jumper One's filed flight path toward the evacuation site and see if they could spot the damaged foliage that Major Lorne had reported from the fly-over in Jumper Two the day before yesterday. Their instructions were also to keep their eyes open for a day flare from the ground which would pinpoint the SAR team's location so the air search could get their bearings of who was where.  
After that, as much as the winds and the Zirite mineral interference allowed, they would be the Eye in the Sky. Prior to the team's departure they'd worked out some signals in the form of barrel rolls and wing dips for communicating with the ground search team. The last ace up their sleeve was that Lili'th had flown in some tricky atmospheric conditions before while still flying Death Gliders in the service of the Goa’uld system lord, Yu.  
Carver followed Lili'th to the hangar bay, checking his long-legged stride in order to keep alongside the petite female. Moments later, they were seated in her 302 and running their systems checks. This was the other reason Adam was flying second seat this trip. He had considerable tech skills and would be battling the radar and ship's sensors trying to get a lock on the missing Jumper.  
Lili'th finally broke the silence, announcing in her slightly accented voice, "Systems check complete. Good for launch, Sir."  
Adam smiled, concluding his check on the heels of hers. "Co-Pilot good to go as well. Do the honors, Dagger Leader."  
The tiny Jaffa nodded and finished securing her helmet. "Yes, sir," as she initiated her voice activated radio system. "Bridge, Dagger One is go for launch."  
Major Marx's voice sounded over the comm-unit, his jaunty tone wishing them well, "Dagger One, Bridge...you have a go.”  
At Carver's soft voiced ‘ready‘, Lili'th touched the controls and guided them out of the hangar bay. Her touch on the controls was light and sure; this was Lili'th's element. She was as at home at the controls of a fighter; be it a Tau'ri F-302 or a Goa'uld Death Glider, as most people were in walking through their homes. During the Daedalus' stay in orbit above Ziya she'd studied the stars out of the portholes.  
Adam relaxed in his seat, one eye on the instruments and sensors. The '02's exit from the hangar bay had been flawlessly smooth. As they soared toward Ziya, he relaxed even more, recognizing the skill of the little pilot under his command. Not discounting the deadly serious task they faced, Carver found himself enjoying the ride.  
Lili'th and Carver used the flight time between Daedalus and entry into Ziya’s atmosphere to fine tune their flight plan and adjust to one another's unique styles. Both were experienced enough that it took little conversation between them as the F-302 descended toward the Earth-like blue and white world below. Once they dropped into the atmosphere, it took all of their concentrated efforts to keep to the estimated flight path of Puddle Jumper One.  
The F-302's streamlined, almost flat design and maneuverability allowed Lili'th to almost slip the ship between the winds as they encountered the updrafts, down drafts, micro-bursts and wind shears. When necessary, she'd roll the fighter on its side, turning it into a flying wedge that sliced through the turbulence like a knife. It was taking all of Lili'th's skill and concentration to not get blindsided by the unpredictable mega-hurricane force winds as they flew closer to the massive mountain range.  
The first time Lili'th tilted the '02 on its side and then rolled to ride out another change in the wind current Adam sucked in his breath and narrowed his eyes at the woman seated in front of him. In the next instant he was smiling at the adventure and taking delight in her skill, resting back in his seat and watching for any decent readings from the radar or sensors and enjoying the ride.  
Steadily they dropped toward the forest canopy looking for the breaks in the foliage described by Major Lorne and Colonel Carter. They were able to pinpoint the location of the damaged tree tops on the charts they'd been given. Adam's eyes narrowed in frustration as they neared the planet and the Zirite radiation sent the readings from the sensors running amok. Briefly, there had been the flash of something on the sensor panel and he felt sure it was the footprint for a Jumper, but the reading had been far too brief for Carver to pinpoint. Still, on the off chance, he gave Lili'th the heading, receiving a nod as the woman banked the craft and sailed precariously close to the treetops.  
For the last several minutes, Lili'th had been flying largely by her skill and instinct as the systems aboard the F-302, hindered by the Zirite, were giving her false readings. In fact, two alarms had sounded and investigation had proved both were without cause. One thing in their favor was the fact that the Tau'ri-built ships had relied heavily on trinium in the construction. The trinium seemed to offer some shielding from the Zirite interference - at least as far as protecting the fighter's power sources. While the trinium mitigated the mineral's effects, it did not eliminate them, making Lili'th's job as the pilot very intense.  
As she and Carver had planned before leaving Daedalus, Lili'th sent the 302 climbing back out of the atmosphere into space long enough to shake the effects of the Zirite. As instruments cleared and they began to receive true readings, she turned the vehicle in the direction Carver had indicated the possible reading for a Jumper. Keeping the 302 moving fast, still balancing it in a lively dance with the Great Winds, Lili'th brought them on target for the reading and pointed excitedly as a great hole in the forest canopy presented itself.  
Lili'th stood the little 02 on its side to mitigate the wind shear as she and Adam twisted their necks trying to get something of a visual. All they could see was darkness in the shadows of the trees. It was possible that beneath the canopy of massive trees lay one of the cave systems that riddled these mountains or perhaps the Jumper had crashed through the ceiling of a cavern. From the shape of the damage to the foliage, however, this seemed to be the most likely spot for her to guide the ground search team to investigate. If JohnSheppard or ColonelCaldwell were able, perhaps they would fire a flare or something to affirm their location if they could hear the fighter overhead.  
Gunning the craft's powerful engines, Lili'th thrilled in its roar as she swept the tiny fighter low over the canopy and then back into space. Giving her trusty F-302 time to settle again, she brought it back down and precisely over the spot they'd located and put the craft into a graceful barrel roll.   
A powerful gust of wind battered at the vessel and she stood it on its side again fighting the wind shear. Moments later the wind relinquished its grasp and Lili'th shot back through the atmosphere and into the safety and sanctitude of space. Tired, but exhilarated at their possible find, as soon as the instruments and communications cleared they reported in to the Daedalus.  
"Dagger-One to USS Daedalus, we have spotted a likely position for our downed team. Letting instruments recalibrate out of atmosphere and then we’ll be making scheduled contact with Search and Rescue," Carver reported.  
"Dagger-One, that's good news," Marx’s voice replied and Lili'th imagined she could hear relief that the first leg of their operation may have met with success. "Good luck with that. Daedalus, out."  
"Dagger-One, out," Adam responded. Leaning forward he patted his squadron leader on the shoulder, inordinately proud to have such a skilled and determined pilot on his team. "Ready to go, Lady Lil?"  
Without thinking Adam had addressed her as her flight team did. Shrugging, he was sure she'd let him know of any objections, but after this, he could see why her team had chosen that call-sign for her. She'd remained graceful, calm, and elegant throughout the first leg of their mission; a real lady by any definition.  
Lili'th stretched and relaxed as they circled the Daedalus. Her CO's hand on her shoulder made her smile. Warrior-friend and commander; she thought highly of AdamCarver even before this joint assignment. Now, that respect and admiration had increased tenfold. He had performed the duties he'd assigned himself and if he had doubts about some of Lili'th's flying, he had kept them to himself, trusting her implicitly. Lili'th knew that it took a tremendous amount of effort and trust for another seasoned pilot to give up the controls and ride second seat.  
They had remained in space allowing the F-302 to get its mind cleared before Lili'th sent them once again into Ziya's atmosphere. Now, more in tune with the Great Winds, Lili'th danced the '02 toward the agreed upon spot for their attempt to make contact with the SAR team.  
As they descended this time, the Jaffa noted the beauty of the world beneath them. Its vast turquoise-colored oceans were met by the various island-continents with foliage in every shade of green imaginable. Perhaps she could visit this seemingly serene and lovely planet someday under different circumstances.  
Targeting the estimated location of the ground team, previously calculated on ground traveling speed and terrain, Lili'th brought the F-302 in as low as she dared and did a gallant victory roll, the prearranged signal that they had found a likely crash site. At a soft request from Adam, she flew back over and tilted the craft left and then right in what amounted to waving at their people below. Lili'th then pulled the craft up to circle the area and watch for the SAR team's reply. 

# # #

Ziya Mountain Range  
Search and Rescue Team  
Late Afternoon

Rodney shifted, trying to ease his position in the saddle a bit. They'd now been on the trail for about three hours and he could feel his abused muscles protesting the hours astride the renquin. Beyond finding their missing comrades, Rodney longed to be as far away from the renquins or anything remotely resembling them as possible.  
Yes, their gait was smoother than the average horse's. Yes, they were sturdy and over all amiable in nature. Yes, they were sure-footed and nimble in the mountainous terrain. Did he want one as a lifelong companion? Ummm, no. They had, like their equine cousins on Earth, a use and a purpose for now - reliable transportation into unknown and potentially dangerous territory to locate their missing people. After this, he hoped to never see one again.  
The scientist’s musings regarding the renquin and his many sore spots and stiff back and shoulders came to an abrupt halt. In the distance, he thought he heard a familiar sound and he looked up toward the jungle’s green canopy. The thought quickly solidified into an absolute certainty as they broke into a brief clearing on the trail and his sharp eyes located the F-302 heading in their general direction.  
Lorne was looking up as well and reined his renquin to a stop, calling ahead as he raised his hand with fist closed in the military signal for those behind him to halt, "Sam, hold up! Our back-up’s overhead."  
The Colonel pulled her mount to a stop, while beside her Dr. Garman did the same. She cast her eyes toward the sky, one hand shading them against the glare of the day. When she spotted the 302, a smile lit her face. "Ioann! Ronon!" Sam called ahead, "Hold up. We're stopping." She looked up again, then back at Lorne with a grin. They were getting close.  
Ioann acknowledged Colonel Carter with a nod of his head and reined in his mount. While Sam relayed the call ahead, Lorne's sharp eyes raked the skies, alighting again on the nimble Earth vehicle. He grinned at the pilot's skill as it threaded the vicious wind currents that raged above the forest.  
As planned, as near their position as could be estimated, the 302 gave a victory roll and then waggled its wings as if waving. The victory roll was their signal that they had located a probable crash site.  
Twisting in his saddle, Lorne pulled the flare gun kit from his saddle bag, selected a day flare and loaded it into the chamber. Taking a quick look to make sure his teammates were alert and prepared, should the flare startle their mounts, he sighted on a clear space overhead and fired.  
The flare shot high and clear with a bright splash of red against the sunlit sky, lingering as it dissolved in the atmosphere. A few moments later the F-302 came back into view and tilted a wing in acknowledgment of having seen the bright red light in the sky. From this point forward, the F-302 would return periodically to circle the potential crash site in order to guide the ground team as best as possible from an aerial position.  
Noting the position of the F-302 as it climbed and then circled a point in the distance, Lorne reached back into the saddle bag to store the flare kit. He then took a rolled map and unrolled it across the pommel of his saddle. Nudging his renquin forward as he scanned the map, he rode up beside Sam and Madison.  
"We're going to have to leave the trail and rough it. I'm guessing we're roughly five kliks from the site. Per the map," he pointed at the area highlighted on the map, "the trail is going to curve away from where we need to go within another mile or so before doubling back toward the possible crash site if that 302 was indicating a sighting."  
Major Lorne handed the map over to Sam for her perusal while he took that moment to relax. Reaching for his canteen, he took a long drink and used the brief pause as an opportunity to catch his breath for the last leg of their journey.  
Sam spread the map out in front of her and Maddie leaned in to look past her arm. "It looks like the foliage gets thicker off trail, but that's to be expected." Her finger mapped the route they would have to take to get from where they were now to where the 302 had marked their destination. "This isn't going to be easy," she said. "But I think we can do it, and it shouldn't slow us down too much." Leaning back in her saddle, she looked up and toward the back of their riding chain.  
Madison reached over and tapped a finger against it. "Here, if we go off trail here and follow this route, it's not going to be as difficult. See here, that looks like a ravine. We'd have to cross it, but if we wait and cross over here," she said, circling the area with her finger, "then we'll have mostly stable ground. If we have to bring the guys back by make-shift stretchers---" She looked at Lorne who had mentioned the possible need for the contraptions last night. "Travois," she repeated, acknowledging their actual name, "it'll be a lot better for them and us."  
"Good thinking," Sam said. She looked up as Ioann joined them and turned the map so that the young man could see it. "Ioann, what do you know about this area?" She tapped the spot on the map where the jumper appeared to have gone down and the path they'd have to take to reach them.  
"I agree with Dr. Garman, that will be the safest path to bring them back on," Ioann replied, looking over the map. "This area..." he said, running his finger over the map, "is full of deep caverns and ravines. Some are really deep, so deep that you can't see the bottom… and they are full of dangers. The winds can get worse here, because of the rock face side of the mountain. The trees thin along the edge of protruding rock cliffs," he stated.  
“So less natural barriers to act as wind breakers,” Lorne nodded.  
"Yes. We are going to need to be extra careful. Some of the larger predators use those caves as lairs..." Ioann looked up at the two women at his side, meeting their gaze for a moment. "Quite frankly, this was probably the worst area that they could have landed in as far as a search and rescue operation goes.”  
Sam nodded and stated decisively, “We’ll manage.” She turned and gave Lorne a nod and he nodded back.  
Laying the reins against the renquin's powerful neck, the Major guided his animal toward Ronon and Teyla. Pulling up next to the Satedan, Lorne quickly briefed his other team members on the current plans. Pointing toward the trail, he ended the relay with, "We'll leave the trail and angle in the direction the 302 pointed out just beyond a ravine. It looks like we're about five klicks from the probable crash site. We might have to go in on foot, leading the renquins and hacking our way through the jungle."  
"Got it," Ronon replied.  
Sam gave their guide a last nod and Ioann moved back to the front of the line as she turned her own mount around, this time heading toward the back of the line. "Dr. McKay and Dr. Beckett, we're going to continue on for a while, but we will be leaving the trail soon to proceed on foot. According to Ioann, the further inward we go, the larger the predators will be and we may see or hear them. Keep an eye out."  
“Oh, lovely,” Carson murmured and shared uncomfortably worried looks with Rodney.  
With the information relayed, she rode back toward the center of their caravan. "Lorne, Ronon," she said, smiling in apology for the interruption. "As we head off the trail, I'd like the two of you to take point with the machetes, letting Ioann guide you from behind. Teyla and I will take our six and we'll move the doctors and the pack animals inward for safety."  
"You got it, Colonel," Ronon acknowledged and set his focus on the upcoming trails and where the best closest point would be to veer off the trail in the direction Lorne had indicated. His tracker's instincts would have to not fail him this day, he thought to himself and set his mind to the task as they rode onward.  
Sam raised a brow at Evan. “Major, if your injuries will impede your reaction time in an emergency I need to know now, before we greet any of the wildlife.” She had every confidence in his ability but like her, she imagined he must be incredibly sore and stiff from the mishap earlier in the day. Ioann or Teyla could take point with Ronon if need be, and putting him in the rear defensive position with her behind the rest of the group.  
“I’m fine, Colonel,” he assured her with a grin. Sam took him for his word and gave him a nod before returning to the back of the line.  
With that settled and everyone in position the caravan rode out again and followed the mountainous trail. They would ride until it got too dark to see clearly or people started to grumble about empty stomachs.


	16. Chapter 16

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Chapter Sixteen

Jumper Crash site  
Ziya mountain range  
Nightfall, Night 3

John had suggested going back into the tunnel to get them some more water before the sun set completely. That way he’d have a little bit less to do tomorrow and perhaps be able to rest up a bit more. His body was starting to feel the aches and pains of little restorative sleep and he had no idea how long they’d be down here. He had to keep his strength up and stay in good condition.  
He’d left Caldwell back at the Jumper again, with a loaded weapon and a flashlight, just in case he was again gone longer than anticipated. The two men had paused in their earlier conversation when John was sure he’d heard the familiar sounds of a 302 overhead. He’d vaulted away from the fire and passed Caldwell to stand beneath the large hole in the ceiling the Jumper had made when it crashed through.  
The sound of the ship; he was sure it was a ship, was maddening because just as he was sure he’d be able to spot it above him, the wind would change direction and silence the sound. It would return loudly again, even echoing into the cavern as the winds shifted yet again and he spun to look over at Steven with a huge grin on his face.  
“Hear that?” he’d asked.  
Caldwell was twisted around, staring at him with a serious frown of concentration and then he nodded. Yes, he heard it too.  
“302!” Steven concurred.  
John never caught sight of the fast little ship but it was a great sign that their people were definitely searching for them. The fact that the ship seemed to be concentrating on the large area above them was also a good sign. They must be able to detect the damage his ship caused to the planet’s surface as they came down. Too bad the trail didn’t lead directly to them, but it was close enough to get a foot team in, he was sure.  
Once the sounds had gone away and didn’t return, John surmised that the day’s find was being relayed to others and now their people were re-grouping and setting out their plans to get into the area. Hopefully, they’d be able to, he thought, then shook that defeatist thought away.  
His energy levels spiked as adrenaline surged through his system now, renewed hope making him feel high and re-energized. He returned to the Jumper with a smile and a bounce in his step and informed Caldwell that he’d go for more fresh water, since he now knew how to get it, they didn’t need to ration so much and what he’d collected earlier that day was nearly gone already.  
He left Steven in charge at the campfire and headed back into the main tunnel with container in hand. As he entered the mouth of the tunnel, he turned on the tiny flashlight attached to his P-90 and let it light his way.

# # #

Moving with stealth, he worked his way slowly toward the prey. It was out in the open and alone now. It‘s partner was gone again. It was time. He needed to eat.  
No growling now, no noise at all. The mother had cuffed him for spoiling hunts with growling before. Now, he crouched in the shadows... waiting. He couldn't wait too long, though, the other one might return and while they appeared to be weak, he was young, unskilled and not brave enough to attack two at the same time. Springing from his position, he raced forward...

# # #

Caldwell squirmed to get comfortable and settled in for his wait. Looking into the fire and enjoying nature's version of television, watching the dancing flames as they snapped and clicked their own unique chorus, Steven enjoyed their new bit of luck. The 302 had been a great sign to both of them and had done much to lift their spirits.  
Sheppard hadn't been gone long, but he thought he heard a sound that couldn’t have been the other man. John was inside the tunnel and this sound seemed to come from the shadows on the other side of the main cavern. Caldwell took a deep breath and then blinked to try to get the flash of the fire light out of his vision.  
He couldn't claim that he had definitely heard something; it was more like a feeling. He stared across into the dark shadows, trying to let his night vision focus past the fire light but the one thing that should be a safety was now impeding his ability to see clearly.  
Steven sat up straighter and adjusted his seat on the rock, trying to lean to one side of the dancing flames. He blinked again, this time sure that he’d seen green eyes reflect the fire’s light but before he could let that click in his brain, something exploded out of the shadows. Caldwell tried to keep his eyes on it but couldn’t see much more than a blur of movement and an open mouth suddenly coming at him.  
Caldwell let out a curse and threw himself flat onto the ground, which was about his only option with the splint impeding his ability to move gracefully. He winced as he hit the ground, jarring his leg and crashing down on bruised ribs. The mass of fur and teeth passed just over his head, unable to alter its course while in midair. Rolling onto his side and pulling the Beretta from its holster, Steven brought it up and squeezed off three quick shots that smacked into the ground in front of the giant cat. He continued to fire and the bullets bit into the dirt just behind the animal as it scampered around the Jumper and out of view.  
Caldwell scooted himself up into a sitting position awkwardly while still keeping his pistol at the ready. He pulled an extra clip from his pocket – Sheppard had insisted he be able to defend himself in his absence and thank god for that. Checking the area around the ship he tried to scuttle toward it in order to get himself into a more defensible position. He dragged himself across the dirt as quickly as he could, trying to cover the distance to the Jumper's ramp before the threat returned. He hoped the gunfire had scared the cat away but, if it hadn’t, he needed to narrow the predator’s avenues of approach.

# # #

John was barely a few dozen yards down the main tunnel when he came across indentations in the soft silt-like dirt that dusted the cave floor. At first he took them as his own boot prints left in the dirt earlier but something caused him to stop for another look. He bent down and directed the flashlight beam to look at them up close to see large paw prints imprinted in the thick soil. The prints were quite large; nearly as large as his hand with his fingers spread wide, and he knew enough about predators to know these prints were made by a feline.  
Sheppard's eyes widened as his brain replayed images he’d seen in the biologists’ reports of the native wildlife; photos of the large saber-toothed cats that were indigenous to this planet. He'd seen their description and image in Dr. McLaughlin's life sciences reports while he waited aboard the Daedalus for his turn to come in to extract the teams.  
He stood up quickly, realizing the creature that had made them was what he'd been hearing sidling about in the cavern with them these past nights. Hopefully it was only one and he could take care of it himself... praying it wasn't an entire family. A mother with cubs wasn't a creature that he or Caldwell was in any condition to deal with without backup.  
That's precisely what he was thinking when shots rang out behind him, echoing up the tunnel. John spun around, bringing up the P-90 he raced down the tunnel corridor, his only thought for the injured man lying helpless and bleeding back in their camp. The smell of a wounded animal would draw the predators, he knew that.  
Sheppard raced back through the tunnels at sprinters speed. Nearing the mouth of the tunnel he could smell the cordite from the fired rounds and he could see the orange glimmer of the fire's light dancing along the cave walls. John burst into the open with the belief that the predator was already on Caldwell, but as he neared the prone man he realized Steven was lying belly down with gun in hand.  
John's momentum, and the fact he hadn't seen the offending creature yet, caused him to hurdle over Caldwell and land between the injured man and the Jumper. He landed nimbly and planted his feet solidly as he pulled the 90 up tightly to his shoulder. He slowly turned, sighting down the barrel, ready to fire as he surveyed the darkened areas all around them.  
"Where is it?" he hissed at the Colonel, then dared to glance down to see if the man was truly okay or had he been hit and then abandoned by the predator. "You okay?" he asked, turning slightly away from the Jumper's open hatch.  
That's when John realized that Caldwell wasn't simply lying there on his belly, he'd actually been making his way toward the Jumper‘s hatch. Sheppard immediately turned in the opposite direction to cover the man's egress so he was facing in the opposite direction and scanning the distant sections of the cavern allowing Caldwell cover to make it to the shelter of the ship.  
“That way,” Steven said, tapping John’s shin with the hand holding his gun. “It went that way.”  
As the Colonel indicated the last spot the cat had been seen John looked in that direction to be sure it wasn't prowling out from behind the Jumper. He moved carefully and steadily in a combat glide to the right side of the Jumper. Seeing nothing there he moved the same way behind the ship and to the left side of the Jumper. There was nothing visible, at all.  
He then turned his attention to Caldwell. Bending down to take the man's arm, he hoisted him off the ground and half carried the injured man to the ramp as Steven used his good leg to assist in keeping all his weight off the smaller man.  
"Can you get yourself in? I'll keep watch for it," Sheppard told him. He received a brisk nod and was just about to let go of Caldwell's arm, so Steven could use both to lever himself up the rest of the way, when John felt a massive tug on his leg.   
Sheppard suddenly jolted next to him and Steven paused, his head snapping around to look at John with a confused expression. John jolted again and seemed to slide away from him.  
Sheppard’s eyes widened at Caldwell as a surprised sound came out of his throat and his body jolted backward again as if being pulled away. John's hand tightened on Caldwell's sleeve and he let go of the 90 with his other hand to grab for the edge of the hatch's frame work.  
“Sheppard?” Caldwell called out in question as he grabbed back.  
A loud, angry growl came from behind him and both John and Steven seemed to realize what was happening at the same time. As Sheppard had dropped his guard to help Caldwell get to safety, the young cat had crept down the side of the ship and latched onto John's leg. With his prey in tow the cat began dragging Sheppard away but he grabbed onto the shuttle’s frame, fingers gripping as tightly as they could and he shouted out in pain as the cat sank its large teeth into his thigh.  
“Sheppard…!” Caldwell shouted as he tried to pull John back toward him.  
Various scenes from the movie Jaws flipped through John's mind and he didn't know if the similarities of this event and one of his favorite movies were humorous or just ironic. He didn’t get a chance to decide as the cat clamped its jaws down and John screamed with the intense burning pain.  
“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrr!” John roared in agonizing pain.  
“John! Pull!” Steven growled out as he held on with all his might. “Sheppard…!”  
Caldwell grappled for John's arm as the cat pulled him down the ramp. He still had his pistol in hand and Sheppard hoped that he had at least one bullet left. He could feel the warmth of blood running down his leg, soaking his pants and seeping into his boot. The cat’s long fangs were scraping bone; he could feel it and the pain shot down his leg and up into his groin with an intense burning sensation.  
John prayed the cat was too young to realize he could probably crush his femur if it actually tried to rip his leg off. For now it growled and pulled with its teeth, using its large paws to wrap around John's hips and lower legs, his large claws piercing skin and muscle like ten knives in his sides.  
Caldwell grasped and curled his fingers into Sheppard's vest as they slid back and forth, his own position on the ground was awkward due to the splint and Sheppard being pulled around kept him off balance and from getting a shot at the cat. He raised the pistol above Sheppard's body and kept watching, hoping for something to shoot at. The cat was off the side of the ramp, nearly completely hidden by the ship’s wall as he tried to pull Sheppard into the darkness beyond.  
John tried to use his hands to push the cat's head away. His fingers gripped at the plush furry cheeks and pushed as hard as he could, but the cat was anchored to his leg with its fangs and he had to reach out again for the hatch’s framework to keep from being dragged away. He tried not to shout out in pain, but that was pretty much impossible.  
He was tough but he was human too, and this was more painful than a gunshot wound, because at least the penetrating bullet laid still. This animal’s thrashing was threatening to tear his limb from his body. In his frantic mind, all John could think about was getting to his P-90 that was hanging from his vest. So close, but impossible to reach for without letting go of the ship or Caldwell who was gripping his vest with all his might as he brought his pistol around again for a shot. He targeted the top of the cat’s head before it disappeared again, pulling Sheppard hard and Steven was pulled backward down the ramp with him as he tried to keep a hold of the other man.  
In John's frantic and unfocused mind, his thoughts of self-defense, self-preservation, and weapons unknowingly shook the Jumper's hull and he vaguely felt the reaction under his hands as he gripped the ship‘s side. On the starboard side of the Jumper, where one of the engine pods was jarred out of line and didn't close properly during the crash, a bright light emitted from the hull. With a loud swoosh the shuttlecraft jolted dramatically as it launched a Drone in response to John's wish for a weapon.  
The Ancient missile shot forward and exploded through the rock wall of the cavern and changed direction, rocketing into the night sky outside. It rose miles into the air in a matter of seconds before following its orders to protect and defend the men in the cave and in mid-air it made a wide, lazy arc and steered itself back down   
toward the cavern... where it would explode on impact, killing those it was intending to protect.  
Caldwell flinched hard at the explosion behind them and spun his head to look up over his shoulder and saw the golden missile spiraling up above the opening, slowing like an aircraft going into a hammerhead stall. His eyes widened as he realized what the drone was doing and he let out a curse. Caldwell looked back in time to have John ripped from his grasp again.  
Sheppard twisted around to grab onto the ship’s ramp and Steven dove forward awkwardly, landing partly on John's back as he looked down at the cat. Caldwell steadied, aimed and then fired, squeezing off five quick shots, not able to risk going for its head so close to John’s leg but shooting into the ribcage of the animal behind the front leg.  
"Sheppard…!" Caldwell yelled in his strongest command tone. "Kill the drone! Now…!"  
The sudden weight pinning him down was briefly panic-inducing as John's mind conjured up an image of an entire pride of these large cats coming in for the kill, until the voice shouting at him eased that fear. Then that weight was suddenly comforting as it proved to even out their advantage in this tug of war. The sudden report of the Beretta was deafening in the alcove of the Jumper’s open hatchway and the cat jumped and released him before roaring its displeasure and grabbing him again, slamming its jaws around the leg once more.  
"Aaaahhhhrrrrrrr!" Sheppard cried out as the teeth tried to sink into his knee, but the repeated echo of gunfire was over in moments and suddenly the dragging weight on his leg was gone.  
John lay half on the ramp, his fingers dug into the frame of the hatch as he took a moment to adjust to the intense throbbing pain that was racing from his toes to his groin. He gasped for air as Caldwell lay over him, commanding something of him and shaking him to get his attention.  
What? - A drone? What drone? Shut it down? Okay. Okay! Sheppard concentrated on the drones. His eyes squeezed shut as he labored for breath and focused on shutting down the rogue drone.  
Above them in the night sky, the returning drone winked out and completed its descent in an easy silence. In the forest, the missile bounced harmlessly on the padded floor not far from the crash site, returning almost to the very spot from which it had launched.  
John was suddenly aware of the silence that followed as the whistling whirr of the drone's propellant shut down. He let out a breath and seemed to collapse under Caldwell's weight as he took advantage of the moment to catch his shaky breath and regain his wits.  
Caldwell also noted the silence and let out a held breath as he realized the drone was now safe and dormant again as it plummeted to the earth. Then he became aware of the heavy gasping breaths beneath him and he moved off John, pulling him around to get him to lie on his back.  
“Sheppard, let go of the bulkhead. Sheppard… let go.” He reached over John’s head and pried his fingers carefully from their desperate grip on the frame and pulled the man over. “John?” he asked, concerned at the loud wheezing of the man’s respirations. “John? Stay with me, all right? You’re okay. You’ll be fine,” Steven tried to assure him and pulled Sheppard’s head up into the crook of his elbow as he lay beside him on the ramp.  
He looked down at the dead predator and the gaping wounds on Sheppard’s thigh. There were multiple deep puncture wounds and the blood was flowing freely. Too freely, Steven thought and then his blood turned cold as he considered the animal had pierced the femoral artery. He moved down to inspect the wounds, pushing hard at the large feline head to move it off John’s legs. Steven ripped the material open there and grimaced at the chewed and torn flesh there.   
“My god…” He shot a glance up to John’s face and saw that his pallor was ghostly as he lay there gasping for breath. “Okay, hang on, Sheppard. I got this. I got this,” Caldwell tried to assure the younger officer. He reached out and snagged one of the large medical kits and dragged it toward him. Throwing it open he grabbed a handful of field dressings and began wrapping them around the wounds and tied them painfully tight to try to stop the bleeding. Sheppard grunted with the effort to save his life but his slight response to what should’ve been extremely painful had Steven worried. “Sheppard?” he asked, getting no answer, “Sheppard?”  
He finished his task there to stop the massive bleed out and he was sure he’d succeeded. When he’d told John he owed him he never thought he’d have to pay it back so quickly. He crawled back up the ramp to sit at the top and reached back down beyond his feet to grab onto Sheppard’s vest. He pulled with all his might, letting his weight drag the other upward as Steven held on and laid all the way back. Then he sat up, shifted himself backward, and repeated the move until both he and Sheppard were safely inside the Jumper’s cargo bay. Once there, he checked John’s pulse and counted his breaths per minute. Steven noted that John was ghostly pale and sweating profusely although his body was shaking with uncontrolled tremors.  
Shock.  
“Oh god…” Steven glanced around and then scrambled for the med kit and a folded blanket that he’d used the past couple of nights. He draped the blanket over John and made sure he was well covered. Then he used the med kit to raise his feet about a foot off the floor. He had to carefully maneuver the injured leg so the wound wouldn’t jostle open carelessly. With that done he scrambled onto his feet, nearly forgetting his own splinted leg at the moment, and dragged a fresh med kit out of the cargo webbing overhead. It had a full complement of fresh supplies and Steven feared he’d need every one of them.  
He wanted to flush the wound with water and let it bleed freely for a few moments more but he didn’t feel he could afford to do that before trying to control the bleeding. The only thing Steven could recall about his ex-wife's cat was that she had mentioned that a cat's mouth was really dirty compared to a dog‘s, due to the movement of oxygen or something a dog uses when it pants. Cats don’t do that and a bite could be a real threat of infection. John groaned and Caldwell looked down at him in surprise.   
“Sheppard…?”  
“Yeah…?” John whispered, half out of it. His breathing sounded nasty still and worried Steven a lot.  
“I thought you were unconscious. How you doing?” he asked, knowing full well the man’s condition.  
“I’m okay,” John assured him with a ghost of a grin. Steven shook his head. He’d never admit that he wasn’t.  
Caldwell pulled another blanket off the bench and flipped it out over Sheppard. It was hot as hell in this tropical sauna but John’s skin was ice cold and that realization sent a chill of terror through Steven’s soul. So Steven did the one thing he knew they both could handle right now. He taunted the younger man with dry humor.  
“A drone?” he feigned a grin. “You shot a drone without realizing it.”  
The corners of John’s mouth twitched slightly at Caldwell's words. "Yeah... a drone. What of it? Wouldn't that have been your first choice of defense?" he asked, trying to speak without the pain showing. It didn’t really work, but Steven did him the honor of not pointing it out.  
“No, to be honest, I wouldn’t have thought of it and, even if I had, I couldn’t fire one anyway,” Steven returned, mopping the thick sweat from John’s forehead with a washcloth from the med-kit.  
"Don't you just hate premature ejection?" John ground out between clenched teeth, sharing the joke. "Hey, what do you want?" he asked, trying to ignore the pain, "It's not like I was actually focused and thinking ‘fire a drone’. It just happens sometimes. I heard that's a side effect of aging." Sheppard grinned a bit, half-conscious.   
Caldwell grinned back. "Actually I've heard that that sort of reaction is a sign of an immature and undisciplined mind…."  
John was nearly passed out now but the corner of his mouth pulled slightly, attempting a grin, and he whispered back, "Good one, Sir.” Then the darkness pulled him under, leaving Steven staring down at the pale face of the man now cradled in his arm.


	17. Chapter 17

<><><><>

Chapter Seventeen

Search and Rescue Team  
Volga Mountain Range  
Nightfall, Night 3

The team had moved along the trail steadily and with great attention until they’d finally set their feet, and renquin hooves, on solid ground again. The trail they followed began a sloping descent as Ioann had mentioned it would and although there was no more fear of falling off a hundred foot cliff, the path became a bit slippery underfoot.  
“We should find a place to make camp tonight,” Ioann called back to Sam. “The sun is beginning to set and it will be dark soon because we are deep within the jungle now. The trees block much of the sun’s light…“  
“I understand, Ioann.” Sam smiled back at him.  
“There is a clearing a few yards ahead. We can stop there for the night,“ he told her before his attention was pulled away from the others. He heard an odd sound that was similar to a whistle. He reined in his animal and looked around for a moment before turning his eyes towards the sky. "What?” he exclaimed in surprise. “What... is that?" He asked, pointing at a bright light in the distance, in the direction they were traveling in. "I've never seen such a thing on Ziya before."  
Rodney and Teyla looked up as, at the same time, Lorne and Ronon spotted it too. Lorne rose to his feet in the stirrups as if that would afford him a better view. Blue eyes tracked the object and immediately recognized it.  
"It's a drone!" he announced.  
"That's a drone?" Ioann asked; dark eyes wide with curiosity and wonder.  
Ronon had been out with Ioann, climbing some ledges and rock falls, a few days prior to the day of the accident. The Satedan had regaled him with many tales of the people from the city of Atlantis, telling him of everything he could think of and then even more when he asked. He had spoken of the Puddle Jumper ships and explained how only certain people could fly them due to something called the Ancient Gene. The stories had gone on all day as they trekked through the brush and climbed rocky ledges and found a kinship in each other. It worried him deeply however, that the area in which the drone seemed to have come from was full of deep and dangerous caves and caverns, and there were large -- very large -- carnivorous predators that used these caves as lairs.  
Ronon looked up at it, his green eyes wide and bright as he stared at the glowing object spiraling through the night sky. It sure looked like a drone, it sounded like a drone, it moved like a drone. Ronon's heart raced in his chest and he reached for Teyla, gripping her forearm, with a smile splitting his face.   
"Sheppard…!"  
"John…" Teyla whispered at the same time Ronon called out the name. A mixture of panic and relief flooded through her and her first inclination was to sprint through the forest in pursuit of the rocket. However, as she struggled to put the brakes on that urgent desire, Ronon's touch did much to curb that sense of frantic necessity to run toward what she realized was not logical or safe to pursue at the moment.  
Still, her heart raced at the realization that it was surely John Sheppard who had sent the missile into the night sky. Taking a quick jump to Ronon's side, she grasped his arm with astounding ferocity, as though his arm were the drone and she was determined to hold onto it until it led them directly to the Jumper.  
“Aren’t those drones used as weapons?” Ioann asked; a deep worry showing clearly in his eyes.  
"Maybe he just figured it’d make a good flare," Ronon offered, not really wanting to think about any other possibilities. "He's fine," he stated as if hearing it out loud made it true.  
As quickly as the realization hit Teyla that it could only be John who launched the drone, it settled upon her that it might be for more reason that just to send a salute to the searchers. Again, Ronon's voice served to quiet her anxiety and she was able to make mental notes comparing her current orientation in the open field and the location of the now descending tracer in the sky.  
"Yeah... right… of course,” Rodney offered aloud too. “It’s just a flare," McKay agreed, putting more confidence into his voice than he actually felt. Ronon slanted a glance back at the other man. He knew as well, that it would be one of two reasons that drone had launched and he just didn't want to entertain the first one.  
Lorne’s eyes traced the contrail from the drone against the deep black-blue sky back as far as he could. "It looks like we're on the right track as well." He pointed at the far side of the clearing where the trail resumed. "That's the direction we'd pegged from our own flyover the other day."  
"Great, then we haven't wasted a single moment," Ronon agreed as he stared in the direction Lorne was pointing.  
Teyla drew a ragged breath and looked again toward the ghostly after-image that remained visible against the darkness. She was loathe to take her eyes away from that image for fear the return of darkness would bring a loss of the hope she now felt, knowing that their teammate, and his companion, were so close and yet still unreachable by nightfall.  
"I told you we would find him," she told Ronon.   
Ronon draped his arm around her in a friendly and supportive embrace. The pair stood there together as they kept their eyes to the sky. He smiled and nodded at her whispered reminder and squeezed her once in acknowledgement.   
"I know. You did."  
"We'll set out at first light," Sam told them. "It doesn't look much further but we don’t want to risk traveling at night." She quickly calculated the perceived distance in her mind. "I think our estimate of midday tomorrow should be about right… if we‘re lucky."  
Overall, the firing of the drone acted much like a flare letting the SAR team know their quarry was alive and that they were on the right track regarding their presumed location. Ronon hoped that John had fired the drone for precisely that reason and not in a desperate attempt to defend himself and Caldwell from some unknown danger.  
Lorne shot a look to Sheppard’s team and nodded at Sam's words. "First light then," he replied.

# # #

It was just before sunset when they’d gotten their camp set up and supper finished. The skies were clear and the winds were dying down again. The steady breeze kept the humidity at bay and manageable enough to get some decent sleep.  
The team sat quietly, in friendly companionship, as they talked and shared stories around the central fire. Some had moved a short distance away and lay on their sleeping bags under the stars, staring skyward as they listened at the shared stories being passed around.  
Madison had joined the others in their elation as it was the first positive sign of life they'd had until now. Her eyes had followed the haphazard arch of the drone as it reached its crescendo and began its descent back toward the ground. Her sense of elation, however, faded just as quickly as the glow of the drone as it disappeared behind the tall trees and winked out.  
It was all the confirmation they had that at least one of them was alive. It could mean any number of things, she knew that. They'd just now gotten the Jumper's systems in working order again enough to fire it, they were using the bright glow of the device as a flare after hearing or seeing the F-302 in the area earlier in the day... or they were in danger. Or they were both injured during the crash and it was a last ditch effort before succumbing…  
Jaw clenching against the negative turn of her own thoughts, the doctor offered a tight smile to the others. She wasn't sure which was harder - the not knowing, or being unable to do anything to help them even if they were to know the truth of the matter. 

# # #

Six months ago  
Onboard Daedalus  
Pilot’s Locker Room

John had an extra spring in his step as he strode purposefully through the narrow corridors of the Daedalus heading toward the area of the 302 Bay. He was a pilot, and loved the company of pilots, and marched into the Locker as if he lived there. Sheppard nodded with a grin at some of the fighter pilots he'd flown with before from the Daedalus' launch bay.  
"Dagger Two!" he greeted with a big smile and the female pilot turned from where she had her foot on the bench as she was in the middle of tying up her combat boot.  
"Colonel Sheppard! I mean, Dagger Leader," she corrected with a wide grin and he patted her on the curve of her spine as he passed by her, allowing her to continue to lace up her boot. "Good to see you again, Sir."  
"You too," he replied.  
"Sir!?" she said as she straightened up to regard him with a frown. "Were you on the ground on this mission?"  
"I was," he confirmed with a grin.  
"Roundhouse Zero-Six?" she asked, comprehending the old code the pilots used in Afghanistan back in the day.  
"That's me," he said and gave her a smile and a wave. Spinning around in order to watch where he was going, Sheppard spun back again. "Hey! Where can I find the pilot of the Lead Wing?" he asked.  
"Uhhh... Ready Room I think," Dagger Two pointed in the direction he'd been heading.  
"Thanks," Sheppard gave a half-wave salute and rounded the corner. Stopping next to the open door of the fridge, where a small, nicely-rounded green-clad butt greeted him as the owner searched the contents of the shelves, John considered the rounded hips for a moment and then refocused. Taking a deep breath he cleared his throat and called out, "Morning Campers... errr, sorry... Morning Daggers! And a fine good morning it is too... thanks to all of you!"  
The pilots within turned to look at him, some smiled knowingly and greeted him openly, having flown with him on missions against the Wraith in the recent past. The newer recruits grinned too, but more with expressions of curiosity.  
"Colonel Sheppard! How are you doing, Sir?"  
"Dagger Leader… Good morning, Sir."  
“Colonel...”  
John smiled at the group and shook the hands of those who came up to him and thanked them for their assistance.  
"So what brings you to our humble abode, Sir?" Dagger Four asked as he came out of the shower area.  
"Glad you asked, Old Dog” John said with a smile. “I'm looking for the leader of Alpha Wing. That was some real spiffy flying out there. I just wanted to shake the hand of the one man who might actually be able to keep up with me out there." He grinned smugly as the other pilots scoffed with good-humor and Dagger Two stepped into the room from behind and passed by him, draping her damp towel over his head in fun.  
Lili'th straightened with a cold bottle of water in hand and turned, pushing the refrigerator door closed and stepping forward as a distinctly masculine voice asked for the leader of Alpha Wing. She looked up curiously at the man draped in a towel.  
There was a round of fun-loving guffaws and chuckles throughout the pilot's lounge and John reached up to pull the towel away. As his vision cleared again he took a double take as a tiny woman with huge, dark brown, almond-shaped eyes was looking up at him as she closed the refrigerator door.   
Her gaze took in the mussed up hair, the good humored hazel eyes and the scuffed and dirty BDUs. No doubt this man was one of the members of the ground forces strike team that Lili'th's flight had been tasked to assist.  
"I am Lili'th, Alpha Flight Leader," she stated simply in a delicate, lightly accented voice. Unsure of the Tau'ri etiquette regarding hand-shaking, Lili'th inclined her head in a graceful bow of acknowledgement. "We were pleased to be able to assist the Tau'ri warriors in rescuing DoctorRodneyMcKay. "  
Sheppard blinked at the petite Asian beauty, completely taken aback. "Wow. Really? That was you?" he asked with a pleasantly surprised smile. Glancing to the others nearby, they nodded to verify that she wasn't pulling his leg. "Well I guess that was my mistake huh? To assume that pilot was a guy."  
"You should know better, Dagger Leader..." Two mentioned. "Your own Wingman is a woman."  
Sheppard chuckled and nodded, realizing he'd made an ass of himself, although he was in no way prejudiced against female pilots or any other female for that matter. After all, he had taken his orders from one, and a civilian one at that, for over three years, and was more than happy to do so. John Sheppard actually seemed to feel more secure with women in command and he wasn't really sure why that was... but this turn about certainly pleased him and he smiled openly at the tiny brunette, making his hazel-grey eyes glitter.  
Raising her eyes to his once again, Lili'th couldn't help but smile. Something of this Tau'ri’s essence reminded her of warriors she’d known in her past that she'd had the good fortune to call friend. While she was comfortable with, and fond of, her flight teammates, she still missed that close bond she’d shared with other warriors that she'd known as Lord Yu's Death Glider squadron commander.   
With one hand, she pushed her heavy dark hair out of the way. It was beginning to come loose from the pins that held it out of the way, revealing the image of the silver tattoo on her forehead. She held out her right hand and tilted her head sideways with a hesitant smile.  
"Is this proper Tau'ri etiquette for the shaking of hands?"  
John stared at her for a moment, taken by the sound of her voice, her grace, her beauty and the fact that this petite female was the amazing pilot he’d seen daringly dog fighting above his head during the team’s escape. Sheppard was shaken from his mesmerized state when Dagger Two tossed a rolled up piece of paper at him. John grinned sheepishly and the others chuckled at the obvious attraction showing which they were sure Sheppard hadn’t intended to show; he thought she was amazing in every way and he simply said hi. She was beautiful and of oriental descent and she had a pretty silver pendant adhered to her forehead. ‘And she’s so little‘, he thought to himself. Standing at barely five feet she blinked up at him and Sheppard offered her a grin. He looked at the silver mark on her forehead, thinking how nicely it contrasted to her dark complexion when her hand being extended toward him distracted John's attention and he looked down.  
"Oh, yes," John smiled at her and carefully shook her tiny hand. It nearly disappeared inside his and he gestured with his left toward the silver tattoo. "That's really pretty. It's like a jewel," he mentioned and the sight of it brought up the knowledge of Teal'c from SG1. "That means you're a, umm... a Jaffa, right?" he smiled hoping he had the name right.  
Lili'th returned the hand shake, as well as she could, considering her small hand was literally wrapped in his. He had a warm, strong, firm grip without being painful. Lili'th had had more than her share of Tau'ri males feeling threatened by her, because even a female Jaffa was normally physically stronger than they were and they often chose to show their machismo; and their insecurity, by gripping her hand far too tightly when being greeted or introduced.   
For Lili’th, this lack of force showed her that this man was confident enough in himself not to be concerned about their differences based on gender or species. In fact, Lili'th found herself leaving her hand resting inside his longer than Tau'ri protocol probably deemed appropriate, but this Tau'ri intrigued her.  
Using her free hand, she gently touched the tattoo on her forehead. A jewel? This was the first time she'd heard the emblem of her service to Yu described thus. Lili'th found herself pleasantly flushed at this new slant on something that most Jaffa found abhorrent and that the Tau'ri usually felt contempt for. This different point of view caused her to tilt her head slightly while regarding the man.  
"I believe that is meant to be a compliment.”  
“It is,” John assured her with a smile.  
“It is most unusual,” Lili‘th told him, her voice was melodic, like a song. “Most consider it a mark of servitude and something for which I should be ashamed."  
John hadn't realized the significance when he'd said what he did, but now reminded of the meaning behind the brand, he shifted slightly uncomfortable.   
"I don't see why you should be made to feel ashamed. Heck, I got a few marks on my body that were put there by people I didn't side with either." John told her then he shrugged lightly and offered his own view on scars and brands and other involuntary markers. "We have a choice on how we view stuff like that. Yours is prettier than any of mine, I can tell you that,” he said, “and it compliments your face beautifully. Whatever reason it was originally put there is obsolete now. Now it rests as a..." he had to pause to think of an equivalent, then he got it, his brows rising as the image came to him, "a tiara; a shiny crown jewel... a mark of strength and nobility… if you choose it to be.” Then John shrugged, adding, “I think it's pretty."  
Straightening, Lili'th regarded the tall Tau'ri as well as she could with having to look up. Her chin rose slightly as she stood taller and her eyes lit with an inner fire.  
"I am not ashamed of my service to Lord Yu. I served with honor and with distinction or I'd not have risen to the rank of Death Glider Squadron Commander. I regret that my service to Lord Yu made me an enemy of the Tau'ri for so many years... although we never actively engaged any of you in battle.”  
He smiled brightly, tapping the back of his fingers against her shoulder lightly. "There ya' go... 'honor and distinction' ... that's nothing to be ashamed of, so don't let other people make you feel differently. "Wow. Commander, huh? I was an AC, before coming to Atlantis... that's Aircraft Commander. I too had a squadron at my command," he told her.   
As he finished shaking her hand, John loosened his hold but didn't let go, he looked down at her as he towered over her. “Anyway, umm… the reason I came down here was to just tell you that you were impressive out there today. Incredible skill... Awesome talent..." he told her and then he sort of stalled in thought. "Umm, maybe, one day... we can pair up." He winced realizing that didn't quite come out right, especially when his former Dagger squad hooted quietly from a few yards away. "Sorry."  
Now Lili'th's dark eyes twinkled as she banked the fire in them. "You are sorry that you suggest we pair up?" A mischievous expression danced across her delicate features and lit her dark eyes, "I am not offended at the offer... and find it quite... intriguing."  
“Umm... uhh, well...." Sheppard stammered. It was the rarest of occasions when he could be stunned by a woman to the point of speechlessness, but he had no idea how the Jaffa warrior had taken his offer. It was a double entendre that he realized could be taken straight forward or twisted into a --- Then he saw the spark in her eyes and he grinned, realizing she’d been taunting him. "No. I'm not sorry I offered to pair up with you. And you're right," he said, turning his head slightly to look at her from the corner of his eye, "it would be most intriguing.  
"And since we're already discussing pairing up, Commander Lilith... I guess I should introduce myself. I'm John Sheppard, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, and it's very nice to meet you." Then he let go of her hand and paused before adding, "Well, I was going to head to the Mess Hall to try to round up my team before heading back to the city. You feel like joining me? That is unless you have another assignment…?"  
Lili'th felt something akin to loss as the tall Lieutenant Colonel let go of her hand. There had been something comforting and reassuring in the touch of his strong but gentle hand. Looking up at him for a long moment, she listened intently as he gave her his name.  
The giving and receiving of names was of great spiritual importance to Lili'th's people. Names were power and should be received with care and honor. While she tended to address the Tau'ri by both first name and surname, as if it were one, she was quite comfortable once a relationship was established - and in the event she was invited to do so - with using the person's preferred given name. Therefore, Lili'th held herself very still and kept her eyes glued to the Tau'ri warrior's as he gifted her with his name.  
"JohnSheppard," Lili'th repeated carefully and solemnly. Omitting his rank was not a matter of disrespect, rather the opposite, as within her beliefs the man himself and thus his name was more important than the rank he held. Inclining her head to indicate her respect and gratitude for the gift of his name, she said softly. "I thank you for your name, JohnSheppard. My name is simply Lili'th. I do not carry a military rank amongst your people."  
John gave her a charming slanted smile. “Well then, I guess I’ll just have to give you a title, Lady Lili’th.”  
Relaxing, she smiled brightly now that the formalities had been observed and Lili'th nodded, finally giving up as more of her dark hair escaped its pins and fell about her shoulders. John smiled as she looked at him and reached up to pull the pins out and shaking the rest free.  
"ColonelSheppard, I would be honored to join you and perhaps meet your team. Unless called on by ColonelCaldwell, I do not have another assignment for this moment in time…”  
“Great!” John smiled and gestured for her to go ahead of him and lead the way. He tossed a playful salute to the rest of the Flight Squadron who then cheered lightly and egged him on. As they walked down the ship’s corridors in momentary silence, John glanced at her a couple of times before offering sincerely. “I just want to officially thank you for coming for us.”  
Lili’th turned her head to look up at him as they strode side by side and replied, “I will always come for you, JohnSheppard.”   
Her words nearly made John miss a step and as she turned to face forward again and he found he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He believed those words coming from her. She made him believe them.  
“I will always come for you, JohnSheppard.”  
“I will always come for you… JohnSheppard.”  
“I will always… find… you… John."


	18. Chapter 18

<><><><>

Chapter Eighteen

John woke with a violent jolt and gasped in the dark. He felt like he was on fire and his breaths rasped loudly in the small space. He had no idea where he was or why he felt so bad. A sound beside him made him jump and an image flashed in his head, of a giant cat attacking him, causing an involuntary noise to come from his throat as terror rose up strong inside him.  
“It’s okay, Sheppard,” Caldwell told him as he shifted closer to him. He moved himself to a position where John could see him and poured some water from a canteen onto what was supposed to be a burn dressing. It was a thick piece of gauze wrapped in a soft towel-like material and acted very well as a sponge. Steven used it to wipe down John’s face and neck as Sheppard struggled to make sense of what was going on.  
“What time is it?” he slurred.  
“Does it matter?” Steven asked, not trying to sound harsh. His question was sincere. The time of day at this point really didn’t matter; it was always night inside this cave.  
“What happened?” John asked weakly. The very act of speaking, or breathing, seemed to tax his strength.  
“You were attacked… by one of those saber-toothed cats…”  
“My leg…” John said and panted for breath.  
“Yeah, he got you good,” Steven told him as he wiped a wet cloth across Sheppard's forehead, down one side of his face and kept going down his neck and chest. That was the first awareness John had that his shirt had been opened, exposing his torso to the air. He gasped and shivered slightly as the cool water evaporated from his heated skin.  
“You’ve got a fever. I’ve been trying to cool your temperature for hours,” Caldwell informed him.  
“My leg…”  
“Yeah, it’s torn up pretty good. I think I stopped the bleeding… it’s all I can do. I’m sorry,” Steven told him. His own splinted leg kept him limited to how much he could move around to help out.  
“Is it… is it… still attached?” John asked, his heart leaping in his throat at the prospect of hearing ‘no’.  
“Yeah,” Caldwell told him and John opened his eyes to look up at the other man. “It’s still there. You’re in one piece,” he assured him.  
“It burns…” John told him, gasping for breath. “I can’t fly with only one leg.”  
“You have both legs,” Caldwell told him.  
“Need both to control a rudder…” John said, seemingly focused only on whether he’d still be able to fly after this.  
“Sheppard, you have both legs still intact. You have two feet and two legs. You’ll be fine,” Steven told him as John panted heavily for air. Steven didn’t like the fact that Sheppard seemed unable to catch his breath or the fact that the fever seemed to be spiking out of control.  
“I’m not sure what to do, Sheppard,” Caldwell told him. “I’ve got a med kit here full of all kinds of vials and pills… there’s morphine and aspirins, there’s even hypodermic needles. It looks more like a doctor’s bag than a field kit.”  
“It is a doctor’s bag,” John told him. “Keller wanted… each Jumper… and every field team… to carry... at least one fully equipped bag… for her use. That’s it.”  
“Well I used up the last two ice packs I could find on board, trying to get your fever down, and I packed the wound with them too, hoping to stop the bleeding. I think that worked. It doesn’t appear to be free-flowing anymore…” Steven told him as John lay on the floor of the Jumper gasping like a fish out of water. He poured a little more cool water on the pad and wiped it at the base of John’s throat and then washed down his chest and belly with it, causing Sheppard to arch a bit as the cool water felt ice cold against his burning skin and he pushed at Caldwell's hands.  
“Please stop that,” he complained.  
“I can’t stop… you’re burning up. If I don’t get your core temperature down you’ll start going into convulsions… and I’m not sure how many brain cells you can afford to lose at this point.”  
John paused in his gasping and then chuckled at that last comment. Steven grinned too, feeling a bit better that Sheppard was at least cognizant enough to catch the humor.  
“Thanks,” John whispered.  
“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Steven offered back. “Can you swallow? I mean, could you swallow a couple of these pills? Maybe some Tylenol will help with the fever?”  
“Can try, I guess,” John replied. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to relieve the sensation that they were floating in their sockets surrounded by boiling water. His fever was literally heating up all the fluid in his body and the sensation of burning alive was very real. He listened to Caldwell’s movements as the other officer rummaged through the med bag looking for the bottle of pills. His throat was so hot and dry that he thought he’d end up choking on his own tongue eventually.  
“Want morphine?” Caldwell asked from a short distance away.  
“No,” John replied.  
“Okay,” Steven acknowledged without questioning. Sheppard was the former medic, he knew what to do, at times like this, and what not to do. “What about…” Caldwell paused and then asked, “Are some of these vials an antibiotic? I think your wound might be infected… maybe that’s why you’ve got a fever….”  
“Could be…” John concurred from his spot on the Jumper’s floor. “Water?” he asked.  
“What?” Caldwell asked.  
“Wa… water,” John gasped and then began to choke. He tried to turn to his side, but the move and the coughing sent a surge of intense pain through his entire body. “Aaahhhrrrr…!”  
Caldwell grabbed the canteen and slid back quickly to pull John’s head and shoulders up onto his leg. “Easy! Here…” he put the mouth of the canteen to Sheppard’s lips. It was a tense moment as John attempted to wet down his parched lips and throat while trying to remember how to swallow. He dumped quite a bit of the cool water down his throat and chest and pushed the canteen away as he gasped for air.  
“That’s cold!”  
“That’s good,” Steven added.  
“No,” John groaned. He didn’t know which sensation he preferred. The fever made his body feel too hot to be inside of it, but the attempts to cool the fire felt inhumanely cold. His body trembled with the chill of the air against his damp flesh even though he felt like a furnace lying against Steven’s leg. He’d only been awake for a total of maybe eight minutes, but the limited activity taxed him and he nearly fell unconscious again. Colonel Caldwell looked down at John's face with deep concern etched in his own then he looked out the Jumper’s hatch at the dead feline lying in a pool of blood on the ramp.  
He sat there dutifully trying to wash the fever from Sheppard’s body with canteens full of the cool water that John had only collected in the last two days. Caldwell had even tried to tell him that they had more than enough for now, when Sheppard had insisted earlier in the evening that he should go and collect more.  
“Ox…” John suddenly gasped as it took more and more energy just to breathe. He reached up and grabbed Caldwell’s flight suit at the shoulder, scrunching the material in his fist. “Oxi… oxygen… there,” He pointed at a green bottle strapped down securely inside the large medical kit.  
“Oh yeah, good idea,” Steven said as he pulled the bottle from its spot. He’d done this before in first aid training but it’d been a while. He looked at the regulator assembly for a moment, as the image of what he needed to do came back to him step by step. He pulled a coil of hose out and grabbed one of the adult non-re-breather masks, attaching the hose to the tiny spigot on the mask. He stared at the bag attached to the mask and remembered that he had to fill it with oxygen before putting it on the patient.  
Steven noticed the special wrench hanging from the neck of the bottle and used it to open the seal of the bottle. As he did that, the gauge needle sprang up and moved across the gauge to indicate the bottle was full. Steven had no idea how long one bottle could last so he’d use it when he felt it was absolutely necessary… like now. He turned the dial up to show the number 15 so he could deliver high-flow oxygen to the distressed man. Placing his thumb over the flow valve inside the mask, to redirect the oxygen coming through the hose, he pre-filled the reservoir bag and then placed the mask on John’s face, lacing the elastic strap over his ears.  
“There you go,” Steven told him. “Breathe slow and deep through your mouth until you feel it working.” Colonel Caldwell cradled John’s head against his chest, holding his hand lightly over the mask as if holding it there. It simply made him feel as though he was still actively doing something to help the injured pilot. John’s labored breathing began to settle down as his body’s systems registered the higher levels of oxygen being received. As his breathing became quieter and less a physical exercise Sheppard’s eyes closed as he fell back into exhausted sleep.   
Caldwell took a deep breath and let it out slowly as Sheppard fell unconscious again. He was a wreck at this point, but the fact that John kept passing out after a few minutes gave Steven a chance to calm his own nerves as the other’s distress ceased for a while. He looked out through the open hatch where the fire had banked down hours ago to leave him blind to anything that may be outside the ship. The only saving grace, as so far as Steven was concerned, was that the cave appeared to be completely silent except for him and Sheppard. He’d heard the flock of alien bats leaving in a surging wave of flapping wings as night fell and now he felt totally alone.  
It was hours before sleep finally took him under for his own needed rest and just before dawn he was awakened suddenly as John went into convulsions against him. Steven reflexively dropped his hand down to John’s chest as if to hold him in place and pulled away quickly with a look of shock.  
He tried his best to keep John’s head cushioned against his legs so he wouldn’t smash his skull on the floor. Caldwell stretched as far as he could to reach the Gerry can that held about five gallons of water. He scrambled to open the cap and then pushed the heavy can over until it spilled its contents over John’s chest.  
Sheppard’s eyes shot open wide and he lost his breath as he tried to gasp against the intense cold of the liquid. He shouted out and fought against Caldwell’s attempts to cool his fever, oblivious to where he was or what was happening. He cried out and fought hard, pushing at Caldwell’s hands and face, but Steven wrapped one arm around him the best he could to try to quell his fight response. Sheppard roared as if rebelling against a perceived torture and Caldwell was certain that’s precisely what this felt like to his fever-ravaged body.   
“I’m sorry, Sheppard,” he forced out between gritted teeth as he tried to wrestle both his partner and the heavy water container at the same time.  
The blanket that had kept him covered was now soaked through heavily with the cold water and the weight of it seemed to shrink wrap the material around John’s body. The two of them now lay in a growing puddle on the Jumper’s floor until Sheppard’s convulsions slowed to a stop and he passed out again.  
Steven sat there panting for air. Having put so much exertion on himself he now became aware of the throbbing ache in his own broken leg which had been repeatedly bashed by Sheppard’s convulsing body. He took a few moments to get himself under control again as he checked John’s pulse and made sure he was breathing. Steven ran a wet hand down his face to cool himself as he took a deep breath and relaxed a bit.  
He left the soaked blanket wrapped tight around Sheppard’s body, but he reached up onto the bench across from him and pulled one of the folded fresh blankets down and draped it over him. That way the wet blanket would cool his core temperature, with any luck, but the dry blanket on top would hold back the cave’s sickly dampness and not chill him to the point of causing pneumonia.  
Once his patient was secured to the best of his ability, Steven leaned back against the bench and closed his eyes and prayed the 302 would come back. Perhaps with the sunrise he’d hear them again. They had to have seen the signs they’d left behind, right? They had to.  
He shifted John’s head closer to him and wrapped his arms tightly around the younger man’s shoulders, holding him snugly against his chest as if to keep him safe from further injury… or maybe hoping to give him reassuring comfort in his altered mental state. For the first time in a very long time, Steven Caldwell felt desperately helpless -- and it wasn’t a feeling he was accustomed to.

# # #

It was turning out to be one of the longest nights of Steven’s life. The fever gripping Sheppard was intense and life-threatening, there was no denying that. He’d tried valiantly for hours to get his body cooled down and saw him through two more bouts of convulsions. Each seizure John had scared the hell out of Colonel Caldwell.   
Throughout the night, John was either comatose and seizing or semi-conscious and delusional. Steven talked to him through the fevered hallucinations and was able to get a little more insight into the other man as he talked unaware. At first he felt oddly uncomfortable, as if he was eavesdropping on events or memories he wasn’t meant to know. After a while, his unease dissipated and Steven simply responded to whatever Sheppard said.   
His first bout with delusional hallucinations had been much the same as the waking dream Sheppard had had their first night in the cavern right after the crash. Apparently their own ship going down had spurred memories into action as John rested and he had awakened to see Caldwell as Captain Holland. A few hours after his second convulsion, John had regained a semi-conscious state, mumbling to Caldwell about something that Steven had to try to piece together.   
“Sorry…” John had whispered to him. “Am… sorry.”   
Steven looked over at him as he finished off one of the power bars John had stacked atop the bench earlier within their reach. He was getting hungry and realized he’d been spoiled by Sheppard’s ability to hunt and forage for fresh food and water the last few days. He tossed the wrapper aside and pulled himself close to the injured man again. Sheppard mumbled breathlessly as he floated in an altered-state of consciousness and Colonel Caldwell tried to reassure him that everything was fine. He’d found an actual towel, a small hand towel, stuffed deep inside one of the extra rucksacks on board and had been using that to wipe down the fever. So far, his efforts were met with little results.   
“It’s all right,” Caldwell told him quietly as he wiped the cool cloth over John’s face. “It’s not your fault.”   
“It is...” John replied. “I… should’ve… listened… to you…”   
Caldwell frowned slightly; unsure of what it is he’d told Sheppard. He couldn’t think of anything and shook his head. “I don’t understand, Sheppard. What did I say that you should’ve listened to?”   
“You said… don’t… climb that damned tree… John…”   
Caldwell blinked and then scowled realizing Sheppard wasn’t with him in the Jumper at the moment. Steven swallowed, feeling way out of control for this.   
“Umm… It’s okay, Sheppard. The tree is fine.” He was reaching, not having a clue how to deal with this.   
“Yeah… but I… broke my arm, Dad… when… I fell…”   
“Oh…” Steven realized he was supposed to play “Dad” here. “Well…” he hesitated for a moment and then said in a fatherly tone, “Well, you’ll listen to me next time, right?”   
“Yeah…” Sheppard panted, his eyes barely opened and looked about unfocused. “I didn’t mean to make ya’ mad… again…”   
“It’s okay… John,” Steven offered, not knowing what exactly had happened here between Sheppard and his father. He continued to keep himself busy with the damp towel, wiping down the fire he could feel radiating up from Sheppard’s face and chest. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know. Boys will be boys…”   
“Mom… used to… say that…” John whispered. “You… hate it… when she… says… that.”   
Caldwell was starting to get a pretty clear picture of what was going on in Sheppard’s fevered brain. “I don’t hate it,” Steven replied, not really knowing whether or not his father actually did hate that reasoning. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”   
“I’m… always… getting… hurt…” John answered. His breathing was labored and it took a lot of his energy to speak even in a broken pattern.   
“So nothing’s really changed there, huh,” Caldwell muttered aloud to himself.   
“What?” Sheppard asked.   
“It’s nothing. Never mind. So, umm… you and your mother are pretty close, huh?” Caldwell asked him. He figured if Dad was a source of fevered nightmares perhaps talking about Mom would calm his thoughts.   
“Yeah… I know you hate… that too…” Sheppard said, his face turning this way or that restlessly as the fire burned inside him. “I didn’t mean… to hurt her…”   
Caldwell blinked in shock and his mouth opened a bit as he tried to figure that one out. “What do you mean, John? How did you hurt her?” His question spurred John’s anxiety levels and he gasped for breath, obviously distressed by the question. “Easy,” Steven instructed, pulling himself up close to the injured man and wrapped an arm over his chest to calm him. “Easy, John… it’s okay. You didn’t know,” he offered, not knowing really what to say.   
“No,” John answered.   
“No, of course not,” Steven said. “How old were you? Hmm? Fifteen? Sixteen?” Caldwell asked, fishing for more information so he could try to get a handle on this delusional episode.   
“Ummm… no… nine. Don‘tcha… remember?” Sheppard replied. “I was… nine…” John said. There was a moment of silence between them and then Sheppard piped out clearly, “And the rabbits are blue!”   
Steven blinked again. Okay, the rabbit thing was beyond him, but how could a boy so young, in any way, harm his mother unintentionally? Or did he? Perhaps Sheppard only remembered it that way. Or maybe his father had blamed the child many years ago. What kind of a father would blame his young son for a mother‘s death? Or perhaps the child blamed himself and the man still carried that guilt. Or Sheppard was simply mixed up in his brain right now and it was simply random thoughts coming out aloud to build a sequence of images for Steven that never really happened the way he comprehended them.   
“Sheppard…” Caldwell started and stopped himself before starting again. “John… you’re not to blame. Do you understand?”   
“But… you said…”   
“Forget what I said,” Steven cut him off with an angry tone. “I was wrong. You understand me? I was wrong… son.”   
“You’re… never... wrong… Dad. You… had me… pegged… long… ago,” John whispered as sleep began to take him back under. “You weren’t wrong… then. You aren’t… wrong… now.” John went quiet and Steven watched him closely, wondering if he was falling asleep. Then Sheppard asked, “Why are the rabbits blue?”   
He’d said it so clearly that Caldwell thought for a moment that he’d snapped out of the delusion suddenly. Then he realized it was just one of those things; one of those odd moments of seeming clarity that the brain pushes out as it thrashes around in boiling cerebral fluid and then Sheppard’s body relaxed fully.   
Exhaustion pulled John back into unconsciousness and Caldwell remained hovering close, staring into the pale face inches from his own as he tried to make sense of that conversation. The scruffy, unkempt hair and the three day old beard belied the normal youthfulness of his counterpart and made him appear much older than Caldwell would’ve thought possible.   
Around 0300 hrs, Steven was finally able to fall asleep and get some rest. He didn’t dare take any more morphine even though his broken leg was beginning to throb again in the splint. Sheppard had done a damned fine job in tending to his injuries after the crash and he’d done an exemplary job as a medic and as a provider and defender. John had even nearly given his life to protect him and Steven was going to do whatever he could to be sure that didn’t happen.

# # #

A second seizure woke Steven from a heavy sleep around 0530 and he scrambled to pull John off the deck and up against his body. Getting slammed by the strong convulsions was in no way comfortable, but he could only imagine how it felt to Sheppard being pummeled against the rough, heavy plated metal floor. That was the longest minute and a half of Steven’s life as he realized John couldn’t breathe during the seizure. His lips began to turn a bluish shade as Caldwell held his head tight to his shoulder to protect at least that much from the physical punishment.   
“Breathe! Come on, damn it! Breathe, Sheppard!” he growled as he prayed for the seizure to end. When it did, he pushed John onto the deck quickly and tilted his head back in an attempt to help him breathe. It worked, as John gasped in a loud intake of air. “Yes!” he nearly crowed and grabbed the oxygen mask still close by. He placed the mask over John’s face and turned the dial up again. He could hear the hissing sound of the enriched air supply coming through the hose and Sheppard’s chest rose high as he sucked in the needed oxygen. Steven lay beside him panting for his own air after that wrestling match. He held the mask to John’s face and spoke to him quietly as his other hand combed through Sheppard’s hair in an effort to comfort.   
“Good man… oh god…” Steven muttered, praying for another day. ‘Just one more day…’   
“That’s it. Keep breathing, good job…”   
John’s hand came up, reaching for the mask. It fell atop Caldwell’s as he held the mask in place. The heat from the palm of his hand was uncomfortable, Steven noted still, and his fingers shook with tiny tremors. His touch seemed controlled though and Steven turned his gaze to John’s face.   
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” Steven told him and John’s eyes opened slightly to look up at him. “Hang in there. You’re going to be okay.” Steven closed his eyes in relief or prayer. “They’ll find us…” he said aloud, not sure if he was reassuring himself or Sheppard of that fact. Beneath his hand he felt the mask tip and realized John was nodding. Steven’s eyes shot to the hazel ones looking back at him. They were glazed over and thick with water, as the fever seemed to boil his body’s fluids to the surface. His skin was extremely hot and dry in some places and drenched with sweat in others. Steven had really no idea which condition he should be wishing for though. He met Sheppard’s glassy-eyed gaze and Steven was sure that what he saw there was appreciation and… absolution. That stare was telling Steven Caldwell that he’d not be held responsible for his death in the event it did occur. Steven saw that message clearly in those grey eyes and shook his head. “No, don’t you dare. Don’t you even think of giving up,” Caldwell ordered. John shook his head no and Steven had to let out the breath he’d been holding. What am I saying? Steven realized. Surrender was not a word in John Sheppard’s vocabulary. He gave him a bit of a smile and nodded his approval and John’s eyes closed again as his fever ravaged body demanded that he rest.


	19. Chapter 19

<><><><>

Chapter Nineteen

Volga Mountain Range  
Search and Rescue Team  
Mid-day/ Day 4 

It all happened far too quickly to know the exact order of events. Madison recalled the sudden flurry of activity; she vaguely remembered Lorne and his renquin disappearing into the jungle. Her own mount had panicked and reared its front legs up in defense. Then it swung around, slamming into someone. She had no idea who, because at that moment she dropped out of the saddle to land quite ungracefully in the dirt. Looking up, all she saw were angry rhino-boar-things, but that had not alarmed her so much as the rapid crashing around her of many hooves, all belonging to very unhappy renquins.   
Moving quickly, she pushed herself from the ground into a half-run, half hobble. Her hip was giving her a twinge, but after the first few steps she realized that, whatever had caused the commotion, had worked itself out and she made her way out of the immediate danger zone. Or so she thought.   
Stopping was a mistake, as she realized a few of these rhino-boars had followed her; whether because they didn't know what she was or thought she was some kind of threat or dinner, she couldn't exactly say. The doctor turned wildly; her eyes casting around for an egress. Her immediately flight response had taken her away from the others, into the jungle, where she was surrounded by nothing but trees and vines. Trees!   
Thinking quickly, she scrambled into one of them, employing skills she hadn't used since childhood and almost falling a few times before she reached a height she felt was safe enough. It was here she still sat - waiting. There was no way she was getting down until she figured it was safe. A few minutes had passed, but she thought she could still here the occasional snort of one of the creatures. ‘Nope,’ Madison thought, ‘not moving. Not a single, solitary muscle.’ She was going to stay right where she was until she got found. "Oh yeah," she said aloud thinking of Steven and the talk she was going to have with him after this. "A very long talk..."

# # #

Oddly, in her memory, Teyla remembered first seeing the stocky, ugly boars ahead on the trail, and then her memory registered the domino effect of panic as each of the renquins in line erupted into a tumult of rearing, whirling, kicking, thrashing legs and hooves. Their mouths opened wide and they were screaming wildly above the equally alarmed humans. The humans in line became a melee of flailing arms and legs. Hands gripping anything possible, grunted cries of surprise and verbal orders to renquins and other humans alike.   
Later, when they all returned to Atlantis safe and sound, this flash action memory might actually elicit a moment of humor, but at the time, she was completely occupied with wrestling a twelve hundred pound creature caught in the height of a monumental panic attack. She didn’t have the time, or sense, to gather up the reins and in truth, that would probably not have had any measurable effect of control over the animal anyway. Instead, she grabbed a solid hold on the front of the saddle as her feet suddenly jostled out of both stirrups and her animal heaved first left, then right, then he seemed to actually sit down on his ample behind.   
To her surprise and considerable dismay, Teyla found herself dangling from a strangle hold on the saddle; in a standing position behind the seated animal with her toes barely touching the ground. If she’d had the time to realize that she could safely let go of the pommel, she would have, but the creature immediately leapt up from that seated position into the air as if taking flight into the sky. As the renquin launched itself forward Teyla was unceremoniously jerked off her tiptoes and for a moment, seemed to float above the renquin’s back. The sensation of floating came to an abrupt end as the creature's front end plowed back down to earth and his rear end slammed into her on its way upward, slapping the air from her lungs.   
The safest place she could think of to be right now was atop the large animal and not tossed under his hooves so Teyla wrapped her legs around his girth and tried to maintain her seat in the saddle. Unfortunately, the animal’s body was simply too large for her to maintain a solid grip with tired muscles and she was wrenched free as he suddenly changed direction. Only the mercy of fate caused her to slip through the air, avoiding all the confusion around her, to land on her feet with the strength and grace of a gymnast's dismount. Nothing could have surprised her more as she landed safely. Taking a quick glance around she noted, there seemed to be an alarming lack of renquins in the immediate area. Her own animal had headed back down the trail toward the previous night's campsite.   
In no immediate danger of being trampled, she stood her ground, bent slightly in a defensive crouch, and waited. She began to distinguish the various sounds and realized that there was a good bit of hoarse grunting and guttural chuffing coming from all around her. At that point Teyla shifted her gaze to find herself in the center of a meandering pack of four-horned boars. They milled around her rather blindly or perhaps simply confused in the aftermath of the chaos. She stood very still, not even moving to ready her weapon. In short order the remaining renquins had fled the scene and now she did not see or hear any human activity either. 

# # #

As it turned out, being at the back of the caravan was a decided advantage for Rodney and Carson. While the commotion spread rapidly from the front toward the back of the line of renquins, their progress was delayed just enough for them to realize there was a major problem up ahead which had thrown the animals into a frenzied panic.   
“Move, Rodney!” Carson shouted to his friend as he heaved his mount’s head around and spurred him back the way they’d just come. Rodney looked openly surprised and worried, but took Beckett’s lead as his partner took off. Rather than wait until their mounts became completely hysterical too, they turned about easily and headed away from the ruckus at a brisk trot. Carson’s renquin seemed more than happy to take that option, even as McKay rode his mount right up the hind quarters of the one now in front of him.   
“Easy, Rodney,“ Carson called back to him, afraid the other animal would spook his in that communal herd mentality. “Back it down,” he instructed patiently. Once a reasonable distance was established, Carson brought them to an easy stop and dismounted. Rodney watched him from atop his own animal as Dr. Beckett pulled the reins over his renquin's head and secured them to one side of the saddle.   
“What are you doing?” Rodney asked; his tone more than slightly panicky.   
“Going back to find out what has happened.”   
“You can’t go back there! Who do you think you are - Rambo?” Rodney nearly shrieked.   
“Rodney, people may be injured. We have no idea what just happened up ahead.” Checking his handgun and pulling his P-90 from the gear packs, Carson set off at a cautious trot. Rodney huffed and let out a breath before dismounting his renquin and tying it haphazardly to Carson’s mount to keep them together. Grabbing his weapon too, he followed Beckett back toward the site of trouble.   
Skirting the trail, Carson slowed his pace as he crept up toward the spot where the others had been only moments before, allowing McKay a chance to catch up to him. With the P-90 gripped in nervous hands, hyper-alert ears and eyes in tune to everything around them, they picked their way through the jungle growth until they could see activity. What they saw surprised Beckett yet further unraveled Rodney’s already considerably anxious condition.

# # #

Teyla, slightly crouched in a defensive position, was wisely maintaining complete stillness as at least four husky alien boars, with formidable tusks, mingled around her. They were alternating their behavior between lumbering forward aggressively and spinning rapidly in tight circles. They did not seem to have a great deal of focus in their aggression, appearing to challenge the thin air in front of them just as often as they danced threateningly in front of Teyla and then turning to do the same to one of their own kind. The Athosian warrior deduced that these creatures were probably near-blind or exceedingly stupid or perhaps they were a bit of both. In any case, even blind, stupid animals with the body weight equivalent to a MALP and wielding two long horns on heavy skulls in a state of even the mildest agitation, could be extremely deadly adversaries.   
Finding a large outcrop of rocks perhaps fifteen yards from the creatures, Carson scrambled up the steep surface on the back side of the rocks. These particular animals did not look like they could easily climb such a pile of boulders and once on top, he was well above their heads.   
"Hey, over here! Suuuu-eeeee. Here pig!" Carson called out to test the affect of sound in the immediate area. The acoustics caused a bit of an echo to roll down the mountain side as Rodney scrambled up to sit beside him.   
“What are you doing?” Rodney whined sarcastically. “Who do you think you are -- Farmer Brown?”   
“I am just trying to re-direct their attention so Teyla can get to safety,” Carson informed him.   
“Well how do you know you’re not just making them even angrier? You’re not exactly the Crocodile Hunter here, ya’ know?”   
“Rodney?”   
“Yeah?”   
“Shut it,” Carson said and Rodney did.   
The two animals nearest Teyla did stop bumbling around, although they apparently did not immediately recognize the direction the voice came from. After a moment, a third boar also stopped, perhaps a result of his call or simply because the other two had ceased their milling about. The fourth seemed to have chosen to focus his energies on rushing and retreating from a squat bush about ten feet to Teyla's left. Carson still didn’t see anyone else from the team, although one renquin had passed him as it trotted along the trail with no rider. He now had to assume that it had most likely been Teyla's mount.   
Having gained a little of their attention with his caterwauling, Carson tried again. This time he stood up and waved his arms hoping to gain their solid attention by adding motion for them to home in on. Increasing his volume and with Rodney joining in this time, they were able to achieve more than a modicum of interest from the two animals nearest them. They each took a few rushing steps in the direction of the two men atop the pile of boulders. When the first two moved, the third creature was galvanized into action and with a rush of adrenaline it trotted toward them with its head to the ground as if charging. Once he had passed the other two beasts, they also set into a cocky trot, right in the tracks of their ugly companion.   
Carson stopped moving and went silent, grabbing onto Rodney to silence him too and they stood still and silent. The boar at the head of the pack of three, postured pompously in front of the rocks, which at his current distance quite outsized him. He puffed and grunted his displeasure, watching with tiny dark eyes for any movement and sniffing at their obviously unusual scent, unsure as to what action to take at the moment. The other two boars brought up his six with equal indecision, preferring to allow their larger teammate to make the first move.   
Teyla in the mean time, thankful to have only one boar to contend with now, carefully scanned her surroundings for an opportunity for escape, cover or protection. The remaining boar was still challenging the leafy bush, though now lifting his nose to sniff the air. Unwilling to wait until the creature was able to mark her position by scent Teyla fled and with the agility of a monkey shimmied up a slender, but sturdy tree. At her movement, the animal relinquished its confrontation with the bush and ran indiscriminately toward the sound and fuzzy image of Teyla sprinting for the tree.   
Settling now perhaps twelve feet above the ground, clinging to the main trunk of the tree, Teyla realized that if this creature were to realize that she was directly above him, he could, with no effort at all, push the tree over and toss her out of it like an overripe fruit. However, the animal seemed to have used up most of his aggressive energy in the standoff with the bush for his enthusiasm for actually locating her had waned and he seemed more interested in rooting around in the leaves on the ground than in those shimmering in the dappled light of the forest canopy.   
Carson squatted down on the top of the rocks, studying the grotesque beasts below. They were larger than an over-sized adult pig and built rather like a rhinoceros; a thick coarse haired hide providing an excellent shield against the harsh, thorny, insect ridden jungle forest, as well as the onslaught of all but the most determined predator. Their massive heads hung low from their shoulders, further weighted by an enormous, rugged rack of two in-line horns, anywhere from eighteen to twenty-four inches in length on the largest of the three animals. Like the rhino, their eyes were small, dark and positioned on the sides of the head. Their hooves were cloven and alarmingly sharp, probably designed for effective digging, but were sure to be effective weapons in their own right. Their ears were small and active, like small satellite dishes, near the top of their heads. Two fearsome canine teeth extended easily eight to ten inches below their upper lip, again useful for tearing and slicing through foliage or inflicting serious injury when required.   
As he brought his gun to the ready, those ears quickly picked up the sound of his movements and Carson hesitated. He was reluctant to destroy any of the animals and he had to weigh in the fact that he was unsure if he had a good position for a kill shot. To only wound the creature would more than likely result in an even angrier and more dangerous animal; it would have to be death or nothing he concluded so he continued to wait. Still not seeing any of the rest of the team, he decided to fire shots into the air instead, hoping to either scare the animals away or succeed in bringing help to their predicament.   
A staccato burst of P-90 fire rang out from just ahead as if in answer, echoing along the trail and joining the sound of Beckett’s own gunfire. While the bullets would most likely be ineffective against the thick hide of these creatures, unless carefully aimed and fired in rapid succession, the sound proved to be effective in sending the rhino-boars scurrying away quickly.   
It took a few minutes for the dust to clear and by the time it had, Colonel Carter was riding into the small clearing still atop her renquin and tugging another along behind her. Of all of them, she was the least rattled and took a moment to scope the situation.   
"Doctor Beckett, Rodney, Teyla," she nodded to the three. "It looks like we're missing a few people. Why don't we gather your mounts and the pack animals and see if we can locate the rest of our team."   
While she waited for the others to vacate their defensive positions, Sam secured her P-90 once more to her vest and tied the reins of Doctor Garman's renquin to the saddle of her own mount. She didn’t know where Maddie had gone, but she’d found her mount first and that was one less thing to have to search for.

# # #

Lorne and Ronon had been forced off the trail by their panicked mounts and, from her unique vantage point; Sam had seen them headed in pretty much the same direction as their animals followed one another. While McKay and Beckett and Teyla were locating their own animals, she took out the map and compared it to their present location, and then tried to ascertain Lorne and Ronon's likely positions based on their mounts' direction of escape. It seemed to her as if they had been headed in the right direction, toward the crash-site. Urging her renquin down the trail, Sam helped the others get the animals gathered and secured.   
"We'll go off trail here," she told them. "Lorne and Ronon were headed toward the crash site the last I saw of them. If they've realized that, they may not bother to backtrack, but it's hard to say for sure. We'll continue in that direction and either meet up with them on the way or at the crash site.”   
“Shouldn’t they come back this way to check on us?” Rodney asked.   
“Normally, they might, but we’re racing the clock here. I’m hoping that if they end up close to our target destination that they opt to go forward. I don’t know how much time John and Colonel Caldwell have,” Sam told them. “I think they’re both wise enough to realize that if they don't immediately hear from us, that they should go forward and rejoin us there." Sam looked around again and shook her head. "And hopefully at some point we'll relocate Ioann and Doctor Garman too..."   
After making certain the other three were ready to move out again, Sam led the small team down the trail and into the jungle. After a while, they found the broken foliage created by either Major Lorne or Ronon’s fleeing mount. It was impossible to tell which, of course, but at least it provided evidence that they were going in the right direction.   
A few more moments on the trail found Ioann rejoining them, still astride his own mount and looking none the worse for wear. Now it was the five of them, with still no sign of Garman, Lorne or Ronon. That changed though not long after relocating Ioann. They found Madison seated in a tree some twenty feet off the ground. She was leaning against the trunk, swinging her legs and whistling a tune. Sam wasn't exactly sure she wanted to know what the tune was, but she couldn‘t help smiling.   
"Well it's about time," Madison stated, looking down on the group. She started to move from her spot, but stopped. "It is safe, right?"   
"We chased them off," Sam said with a smirk. "It's perfectly safe now. You can come down." Lips pursed in amusement, she watched as the doctor made her way down out of the tree, eventually having to jump the last few feet.   
With the team mostly back together now they were once again on their way, headed toward the crash-site at a steady, if difficult, pace. They still had the very thick foliage to cut their way through on foot and because they'd left the trail sooner than originally planned, they also had a ravine to cross. As it turned out, though, it wasn't very steep. Fortunately their little adventure had not set them too far behind, with the exception of having misplaced two of their team.


	20. Chapter 20

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Chapter Twenty

Ronon walked back through the damaged foliage with his renquin in tow. The brown and white "painted" beast was sheepishly walking behind his thrown rider and acting rather humble and apologetic even though Ronon kept chuckling at the absurdity of the scene. He could just imagine what he'd looked like being abducted by a crazed renquin and no matter how much he yelled and pulled on the reins the darned animal would not halt.   
So, he'd leaned forward and hugged the animal low to keep his head out of the tougher branches since he sat taller in the saddle than the others. He figured the animal had to get tired soon enough, since it was using a lot of that forward momentum to plow down thickets of brush and small trees. He knew that kind of energy burst comes on strong and fast, but usually dwindles rapidly once expended... and he was right. The animal had finally stopped and Ronon slid off its back slowly, taking a few moments to get his ground legs steady under him and he chuckled at the feeling of drunkenness in his legs. Once the pack animal had stopped panting and realized what it had actually done, it looked at him with one huge brown eye as if waiting for punishment. The expression on that furry face simply made Ronon find the humor in it, despite the entire upheaval and inconvenience of now having to walk back again, try to find the others, and keep the hope that no one had been seriously injured by their own frenzied animals.   
Ronon had been riding point with Lorne and was vaguely aware of something large and heavy slamming into the back of his ride. That forceful nudge had kicked his mount into an alarmed startle response and Ronon quickly surmised the hit must've been Dr. Garman's animal panicking because it was stuck in the center and wanted to flee. The Satedan, however, was unsure if his mount was the only one that had charged into the jungle or if Lorne and Maddie's had as well. Perhaps everyone else was separated too, since panic has a wonderful way of spreading itself very quickly.   
It was quite a while later when Ronon stepped out of the damaged jungle trail his animal had blazed onto another pathway that intersected his. He stopped for a moment and looked to his right. He stood very still listening to the jungle and his renquin's huffing breaths behind him. Then he saw something moving toward him and Ronon's eyebrows raised high as he craned his neck to try to see through the thick undergrowth. It was a renquin, he could see now the top of its head over the high brush... and now the top of a shorter head leading it in his direction. He could hear the voice of Major Lorne cursing and muttering quiet threats to the animal and Ronon grinned, completely amused.   
He waited for Lorne to get close enough to notice him standing there to the side waiting for him. Unknown to Ronon his clothes were completely askew and his dreads were pointing in all directions with leaves and twigs sticking out of them. He now looked like an aboriginal native of the jungle planet. Lorne’s renquin pulled at the reins and snorted a greeting causing him to check his stride and look up. Blue eyes widened as they met those of his very disheveled teammate standing where the rough game paths intersected. The officer wanted to grin, but was sure it would hurt his somewhat battered face. Instead, he paused, muttering a curse as his renthen almost trod on his heels.   
Lorne looked up at Ronon and blinked and simply couldn't help it. With the twig and leaf adorned dreadlocks pointing in all directions, his height and rugged appearance and his ability to seemingly blend in with the jungle around him... Ronon simply reminded Evan of the Ents from the Lord of the Rings movies and he had to chuckle. Meanwhile, Ronon‘s gaze moved to the other man's renquin and back to his own. If it was possible for a horse-like thing to look totally contrite, these did.   
Coming to a stop next to the big Satedan, Lorne looked him over carefully, noting that while he seemed to be like a walking tree - having no doubt gathered a large amount of the jungle to his person during his headlong gallop through the forest - Ronon looked uninjured. Lorne managed a grin and winced as the attempt pulled at the cuts and bruises on his face.   
"So... Mighty Hunter-Tracker… you happen to know the way back to the main trail and our team?" Lorne asked, humor lacing his tone. Ronon grinned at the other man, his green eyes holding a spark of humor that probably shouldn't be there.  
"Of course," he replied in his usual short answer replies. Instead of moving though he kept grinning at Lorne and finally asked, "Are you okay?"   
Evan stretched slowly, seriously assessing the new crop of aches and pains brought on by his precipitous dismount from the renquin. "I'm fine, thanks," he replied.   
"Okay," Ronon acknowledged with a quirky grin then tilted his head in the direction Lorne had been heading originally. "Come on. This way," he said and turned to lead his renquin and Evan and his mount back toward the place they'd last seen the others. Over his shoulder he mentioned to the Major, "Shame we have to go back though. I think this is the way we should be heading anyway."   
Furrowing his brows, Lorne stopped and looked around. He was torn between his concern for the rest of the team and finding them or moving forward toward the downed Jumper's location. They had yet to hear shots fired which could mean anything from the trouble had passed or everyone was too scattered or too injured to shoot at the pig-rhino things. He had complete faith in Colonel Carter’s abilities, but there were other less field experienced members on this expedition.   
Gathering the reins, he resumed walking, catching up to Ronon quickly. They had gone a few steps, starting to retrace their path toward the main trail when Ronon spoke again. "Sam and the others... they're really good, you know. They can take care of themselves."   
As Ronon stopped, Lorne pulled Skippy to a halt also. "Of course they can... but..."  
"But...?" The big Satedan waited for Lorne to step up beside him, green eyes gleaming at the other man. "More delays if we go all the way back." Ronon indicated the jungle around them. "We're at least a quarter of the way to the crash site. If we turn around now, we could get there, rest, and be ready to start the search once the others arrive. We have something in place in case the team gets separated, right?"   
Major Lorne stood very still, head lowered slightly as he listened and weighed the information. All of Ronon's points were good ones. Instead of backtracking, he could signal Sam and he and Ronon could continue their assignment; riding point and clearing the trail. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the other man and nodded.  
"You're right."   
Handing his renquin's reins to Ronon, he stepped back to his saddle bag and pulled out the flare kit. The signal to be used in case the SAR team got separated was three flares fired in quick succession to say ‘We're okay, meet at the rendezvous point’. The reply was essentially the same -- three flares fired rapidly -- that would be the signal that the rest of the team was okay and would follow as soon as possible.   
Along with the flares, Lorne pulled a short, bright yellow ribbon marker out and handed it to Ronon. "Tie that to something where the team can easily spot it to signal the track we are taking." While Ronon juggled the two renquins and tied off the marker, Major Lorne prepared the three flares so they could be fired quickly. A few moments later, he stepped back from the renquins, found a clear spot and fired toward the sky. As soon as the first flare was off, he quickly loaded the second round and fired, and then the third.   
It was only a matter of moments before they saw the response from the team. Three day flares fired rapidly, one after another, shot roughly from the direction they were sure the main trail was located. Walking over to Ronon, Evan stored the flare kit back in his saddle bag and pulled the huge machete from its scabbard.   
"I'll take the first segment, change off in an hour." As he stepped past the Satedan, Lorne tossed out, "You look like an Ent you know."   
Ronon narrowed his eyes at Lorne and asked suspiciously, "What's an Ent?"   
Lorne grinned as he moved off, hacking at the foliage overgrowing the trail. "It’s a huge, honking, walking tree. They’re characters in a series of fantasy novels from my planet; living, walking, sentient trees."   
"And you think I look like one of these... Ents?" Ronon asked, still sounding wary.   
"Well... with all the greenery trapped in your hair... Yes," Lorne replied. "There are worse things than looking like a tree."   
"Name something," Ronon replied, humor lighting his voice.   
"Politicians... bureaucrats… lawyers... they’re all worse than trees."   
"You may have a point. I'll let you know if I need to kick your ass after I see a picture of one of these Ents."   
Lorne chuckled and kept going, swinging the machete. The physical exertion pulled at his sore shoulder but it felt good, as if maybe he was working out some of the damage. The remaining conversation was quiet and companionable as the two men changed off hacking their way through the dense foliage. Eventually they reached an area where they could see broken vegetation high above them; literally, a hole in the forest canopy. This provided light and, as there was a small clearing as well, Lorne called a halt.   
Both men were dirty and Evan could feel the sweat sting as it trickled past the bandanna he'd knotted around his head and into the cuts on his face. He'd long ago shed his shirt and jacket in favor of a thin, sleeveless T-Shirt and his tactical vest. It wasn't ideal jungle wear, but would have to suffice.   
"Let’s stop here and re-hydrate and wait for the rest of the team. They should be able to move faster than we did since we cleared and marked the trail. Plus, they'll probably be mounted where we had to go afoot," Lorne said, suiting actions to words by fastening his renquin to a nearby sapling, pulling his canteen loose and sinking to the forest floor after checking for creepy crawlies. Leaning back against a giant deciduous tree, he sighed with exhaustion. "We're close. A few more hours...”

# # #

It was not long after finding Doctor Garman that the bright red flares were spotted in the air overhead. Sam grinned, knowing that Major Lorne would not have fired them off if the two men had not reunited. They were okay, and they were proceeding, just as she'd suspected they might. Reaching behind her, she pulled out her own flare kit and fired off the answering signal. ‘Understood. We’ll see you soon’.   
The flares had also served another purpose; they gave them a definitive direction to go in. After changing course, just the slightest bit, they soon happened upon the yellow marker left behind for them. Although the harder work of forging the trail was already done, the group was much larger now and they had the pack animals to consider so Sam urged the others to take a slow and easy pace. They were still quite a ways behind the two men and not willing to risk another adventure now that they were moving into territory known to contain large predators, Sam proceeded with caution. With the way marked, she took point as they entered the veritable tunnel through the jungle brush that Ronon and Lorne had forged. Soon, they reached a place where riding became impossible and they dismounted in order to lead the renquins.   
In the much thicker canopy the sounds were more varied, they could hear the calls of primates and birds, and the chirping of the larger insects also surrounded them. In the denser brush bordering their man-made trail, they could see and hear the rustle of leaves and vines. The native inhabitants were not pleased with their presence, but were not willing to interfere either. The heat and humidity were much higher now and Sam was once again grateful for her much shorter hair, particularly when she glanced back and saw Madison working her wildly curling and frizzing mane of hair into a messy bun.   
"If we don't meet up with the men soon," Sam called back, "We'll stop for a few minutes to rest the animals and re-hydrate." As luck would have it though, the tunnel opened up into a clearing just a few minutes later. Sam walked cautiously into it and scanning the area, quickly spotted Major Lorne and Ronon resting safely nearby.   
Sure he'd heard sounds that interrupted the rhythm of the jungle around them, Ronon looked in that direction and a moment later Colonel Carter appeared through the thick jungle plants, followed by her renquin and other voices. Ronon smiled as he heard Dr. Garman complaining to Sam about the humidity doing something unkind to her hair. He kept his eyes on Sam as she scanned the clearing and her gaze finally fell on him and his companion sitting against the large tree trunk.   
She strode toward them and, taking just a moment to look them over carefully, and after assuring herself that they were both okay, she nodded once.   
"Gentlemen, I'm glad you're both in one piece. Good job with the trail, you both earned a rest tonight. Teyla and I will take turns with the watch. But first…“ she said, surveying the small clearing and the damage to the canopy and ground obviously done by the crashing Jumper. "We need to find our missing colleagues."   
"About time," Ronon said affably as he stood up, ready to rock and roll as Sheppard would say.   
While Teyla had not really had reason to fear Ronon and Lorne were lost or injured, the sight of the two resting leisurely on the other side of the clearing, and the sound of Ronon's voice, were the final reassurances she needed to actually take a deep breath and relax somewhat. Regardless of the multitude of good signs they had encountered - the drones, the victory roll of the 302, the flares - in many ways, those encouragements made the remaining wait more uncomfortable. As she took in the sight of the churned up ground, the broken trees and shattered boulders lying like shrapnel around them, Teyla’s mouth opened in awe and heart-wrenching dismay. It was easier to the see damage here as the jungle thinned in the rocky meadows near the top of the mountain. The best they could make out was that the debris field stretched for miles in either direction.  
“Oh… my….” She could barely speak. The power and speed it must’ve taken to do such damage had to be enormous. She couldn’t imagine how the two passengers had fared such a crash even with inertial dampeners working.   
A persistent urgency prickled at her spine between her shoulder blades as little spikes of adrenaline shot through her. She swiped at the sweat dripping down her forehead and along her hairline; the sting of salt spread across her eyes, causing her to squeeze them tightly. She reached for her canteen and poured a little trickle over her face before indulging her thirst. She would tell no one of her mounting fear nor show evidence of her sentiments beyond a poised and reassuring smile to her teammates, as always. She closed her mouth with a snap and pulled her shoulders back just as Rodney turned to her with a fearful expression. Teyla offered him a reassuring smile and crossed behind him to go to Ronon.   
Ronon stood up as Sam mentioned moving on. He caught a glimpse of Teyla among the group and he moved toward her. The two friends hugged briefly and then Ronon rested a hand on her shoulder as she drank from her canteen. When she spared him a look, wiping the sweat and water from her brow, Ronon gave her an encouraging smile and squeezed her shoulder lightly.   
"We're almost there. This will be over in no time."   
Sometimes, Teyla wondered if Ronon could read her mind. He had an uncanny knack for 'reading' her, in any case. He was a man of few words; what he said was in short, clipped sentences. He also had a quiet, lingering way of looking at people, herself included; as if he was listening to their pores breathe. It was not meant to be offensive, nor was it, it was just interesting and, in Teyla's mind, extremely reassuring without being intrusive in any way. But still, she sometimes wondered if he really could read her mind.   
Ronon simply smiled at her, his green eyes twinkling as if he knew a secret she didn't know. Smiling, she nodded and reached up to grip his strong fingers in silent thanks for his support. Taking another draw of water, she offered him the canteen.   
"I believe you are right, Ronon." Her eyes shifted to something poking out of the side of his head and she reached up to pluck a twig, complete with a couple of small pale green leaves, from his mop of dreads. Showing it to him, Teyla pointed out the small, round, green and red beetle posted on the uppermost part of a leaf. As she did so, the small insect took flight, barely hovering on tiny wings. It eventually bobbed uncertainly off in the direction of the canopy above. Teyla smiled and dropped the bunch of leaflets to the ground.   
Ronon smiled as she showed him the twig from his hair. It not only had leaves attached but supported wildlife as well. He smiled openly and then looked to Lorne, who was grinning at him. Ronon imagined what an Ent must look like... of course, he himself was actually imagining something more like the Nox than an actual tree that walks and talks. But he’d still shared the joke with his new friend and let out a chuckle as they rejoined the group.   
Once the rest of the SAR team arrived, everyone took a few minutes to secure and care for the renquins and Sam ordered a quick meal and a chance to re-hydrate before setting up a search plan. The order was simple. The entire team would fan out across the area of broken foliage and do a sweep-type search. They were to stay in voice contact with each other and search in one hour increments. Due to the heat and humidity, they would pause for fifteen minute breaks and then resume the sweep, staying within the grid each was allotted.   
Each person geared up with climbing tackle, emergency first aid kits, flare kits, extra water, power bars, ammo and weapons. Sam showed them the roughly drawn grids on the map and each person headed out to start the search. Lorne and Ronon's grids were on each end with Sam and Maddie's center most, leaving Teyla, Carson and Rodney fanning out to either side of Sam and Madison.   
However careful Teyla had been to arrange the equipment she carried on her back, the repeated slicing through the undergrowth with the machete tended to result in everything eventually shifting to the left or right. She stopped for what seemed like the hundredth time to readjust the load, wipe her brow and untangle the scheming vine that seemed to be determined to wrap her feet in its endless writhing net that spread across the forest floor.   
"Clear here," she called out to the others as she reached the far edge of her allotted grid before winding her way back again. Moving slowly forward, hoping at each break in the crushed vegetation to see the downed Jumper and feeling the increasing heaviness in her heart each time nothing was found.   
Another swipe of the blade and she heard fluttering in the midst of a bunch of closely growing bamboo-like canes. Two bright blue and orange birds lifted from the thicket with a gobbling trill that seemed muffled by the close growing hedge of foliage. Were it not so hot, so humid, so miserably sticky, she might have enjoyed the beauty of the birds more completely. As it was, they were a mere blip of pleasant distraction from the sweat and the itching insect bite on her left shoulder and the incessantly clingy vines.   
Ioann hadn’t been very talkative the last few hours and he worked silently, cutting through the dense brush. Working his way through the plant life stretched his muscles, some long gone stiff from riding for longer than he was normally accustomed to. The workout felt good nonetheless. While the others called out for their missing teammates, Ioann kept quiet, keeping his ears tuned into the sounds of the jungle.   
Thrown over Madison's shoulder was the gear pack containing just the most essential emergency medical equipment; the two large, black, plastic cases carrying the larger sum of their medical supplies had been left strapped to the pack animals. With Sam a few yards to her right, the two women followed the damage path looking for any large openings or caves, or even wreckage that would draw their attention to the place where the Jumper had finally settled. There were a few deep gouges in the land, making it obvious that the Jumper had been there before its own inertia sent it plowing in another direction most likely, while John fought to keep it from completely running aground.   
Lorne shrugged his backpack into a more comfortable position and retrieved his machete from the base of the tree where he'd been sitting before making his way toward his designated portion of the search grid. The jungle quickly obscured the other team members from his line of sight. Periodically, as one of them would call out for John and Caldwell, Lorne could keep track of who was where. Soon he developed a pattern - swing the machete, wince at the pull in his sore shoulder, move forward, call out for Sheppard and Caldwell, wait until he'd heard the other team members do likewise, listen and then repeat. Each hour on the hour, Sam would call a halt and everyone would stop in place to rest, catch their breath, and re-hydrate. Fifteen minutes of rest, and then back on their feet for the next hour.   
It was frustrating, tedious, and exhausting work. They knew, from the 302's flyovers and the trail of broken foliage that they were close... very close. Unfortunately, locating the exact location the '02 had circled yesterday was impossible to detect from the ground with the forest canopy obscuring their view. It seemed, as time dragged on, that they were in one of those ‘so close and yet so far’ scenarios. Swing, wince, move a few steps forward.  
"Colonel Sheppard! Colonel Caldwell!" Lorne called out, pausing to listen as other voices echoed his, and then moving on. Just as Lorne started to move forward, he heard an excited shout and then Sam calling for Doctor Garman.   
Triangulating on the two voices, Major Lorne moved quickly on the diagonal trying to intersect with Sam. He caught glimpses of Teyla as she too ran through the brush in the same direction he was heading. They reached Sam just on the heels of the other team members who had been closer to the center of the search grid.   
As he reached them, he sheathed the machete freeing his hands for his P-90 or Beretta, but as he stepped up to where the team was standing and looking down, he saw the reason for the excited shouts. Lying on the ground, powerless and dark, was the drone they‘d seen flying high overhead in the night sky. He looked at the others; everyone was smiling but reining in the urge to celebrate.   
They‘d made it. Now they had to hope that they’d made it in time.


	21. Chapter 21

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Chapter Twenty-One

Volga Mountain Range, Ziya  
F-302 Air Search and Rescue  
Afternoon/ Day 4

Targeting the estimated location of the ground team, Lili'th brought the F-302 in as low as she dared and did a gallant victory roll, the pre-arranged signal that they had found a likely crash site. At a soft request from Adam, she flew back over and tilted the craft left and then right in what amounted to waving at their people below. Lili'th then pulled the craft up to circle the area and watch for the SAR team's reply.  
Without warning the winds abated. Lili'th remembered from the briefing that there were often sudden lulls to the Great Winds, but they'd return just as suddenly. This gave her a window of opportunity to try and drop closer to the hole in the foliage they'd spotted earlier and she guided her '02 in that direction. They were still some distance away and proceeding with caution. Even though the seasonal Great Winds had abated, the mountain ranges were rife with persistent cross currents, down drafts, and other dangers for the unwary. This mission was certainly testing Lili'th's skills as a 302 pilot.

# # #

Jumper Crash Site  
Ziya mountain range  
Afternoon/Day 4

When John woke next, he was aware of the lovely song of the birds and the sounds of a jungle waking at sunrise, or so he thought. Thank god, he thought to himself, they survived another night. His brain was swimming in molten lava and his eyes burned behind their lids. He shivered under the heavy blankets and he felt as though he was on fire. His hands were curled into the blanket tightly as his body tried to fight against the agonizing infection or poison, or whatever it was, that was affecting his system so violently.  
He panted heavily as he became aware of his predicament and tried to move. The very action of simply moving one arm seemed to tax him, as he tried to drag the hot blankets off his drenched body. It took a few exhausting efforts as his brain continued to swim in boiling slush to remove the blanket. His shaking hands roamed over himself, checking for whatever was wrong and he felt the padding secured to his thigh and a leather strap tied tightly right above it. That hurt and he wanted it off. His weak fingers clawed at it without making progress.  
Caldwell stirred nearby as the afternoon's heat began to raise the temperature in the cavern and the sounds of the day seeped into his sleepy brain. He opened his eyes as movement to the side drew his attention. He turned his head to see Sheppard struggling and half-aware.  
"It's okay," Steven offered in a sleep gravelly voice and shifted to move to the injured man. "It's okay, leave it alone," he assured John and guided his hands away from the tourniquet. He'd applied it shortly after John had passed out the night before and had noted the rising of his body temperature.  
Steven couldn’t be sure if that animal carried toxins or infected saliva, but the quickness of its action to bring Sheppard to this point reminded him of the exotic reptiles on Earth. The toxic effect of the Komodo Dragon and it's extremely diseased mouth could kill a man within hours.  
He unhitched the belt around John's thigh and tossed the two wasted ice packs aside. John groaned in relief as the tightness around his aching muscles was released. The bulky dressing tied around his leg was showing some bleed-through, but seemed to have slowed. Steven hoped that the ice had helped to slow the blood flow and tightened the strap again causing John to struggle with him briefly before his weakened state forced him to be still.  
Caldwell reached for the canteen and shook it. There was enough water left in this one to give Sheppard relief from thirst for now although nothing so far had helped cool the raging fever. He needed medical help or Steven feared his companion would not survive. After helping John swallow a few mouthfuls, he struggled to get to his feet. It was now up to him to pay Sheppard back for all he had done to help the battleship's commander survive this unfortunate incident. John had fashioned a crutch for him from a long steel rail that framed the cargo netting storage area and now Steven used it, as John had intended, to assist himself in moving about on his one good leg.  
As long as he didn't try to do anything stupid he figured he should be okay. At least okay enough to get his own feet back under him for a while and move out of the shuttle craft to nose around. He looked down the ramp as he positioned the makeshift crutch under his arm. He could just see the throat, side and front paws of the large-toothed cat lying there dead in the dirt. It didn't seem to be quite as big now as it had appeared to be when it was trying to drag Sheppard away to feast on him.  
Steven took a deep breath and pushed himself toward the hatch, trying to not put a lot of weight on the sturdy splint Sheppard had built for him. Even three days later the contraption was set solid on his limb, but he wasn't sure how long it'd hold up if he put stress on it. He hissed loudly as he put a little weight down on the injured leg and immediately twisted around to grab onto the cargo netting with his free hand. He held himself upright as he adjusted to the new situation and steeled himself against the shooting pain from the broken limb.  
Slowly, he tested just how much weight he could put on the leg and nodded in affirmation to himself as he was sure he could manage moving about with a dramatic, over-exaggerated limp. Caldwell half expected to take a header down the ramp when his leg gave way under him, but that didn‘t happen. He limped heavily to the ramp and made his way slowly and carefully down to the ground and looked around. He looked down at the carcass of the young cat and decided to keep his focus on morning chores instead and hoped the day's heat wouldn't cause the large carcass to stink up the cave too quickly.  
He half-limped, half-dragged himself over to the damped down campfire and bent down for a stick to stir it up. He was grateful to see it contained hot, burning red embers under the surface, so he used the stick to stir it into spitting out sparks. He shrugged out of the vest he'd donned in the wee hours and used it to fan the embers. They breathed brightly each time he fed it oxygen so he took a handful of kindling sticks and tossed them into the center and then fanned them again until they caught.  
Once he'd gotten the fire dancing tall and lively, he tucked himself back into the vest and scanned the area. He didn't really need the flame to cook food, since he could do well with the fruit and MRE's, and Sheppard was really in no shape to take in a meal. He did, however, require the hot flame to light his way around the darker areas of the cave.  
Limping over to the new opening that had been made the night before by the rogue drone, he squinted up at the morning's bright clear sky. Steven could see the treetops still swaying and bending in the high winds above them. He stared up at the blue sky trying to remember what it was like to be on that side. Free.  
Then he thought he heard a familiar sound, but it lasted only a brief moment before the winds swept the sound in another direction. Caldwell stood below the natural skylight of the cave and listened, wondering if he was simply beginning to hallucinate. How long had they actually been down here now - three days? - Four? He couldn't remember. Perhaps he was suffering delirium from his own fever or shock. Steven lowered his gaze, turning back toward the ship and then stopped again as he was sure he heard the sound again. It sounded like the whine of an engine... an aircraft engine... an aircraft capable of great speed and fancy flight. The whine of a fast moving 302 again!  
Steven turned back, squinting against the bright sun above and stared into the blue sky. The sound faded and came back again then faded and returned yet again. A search pattern, he realized. It was flying a sort of grid pattern... or simply attempting to circle in high winds.  
'The impact trail!' he realized. The small fighter ship must have spotted the damaged track they'd left behind as they sheared off trees and gouged the ground on numerous impacts. A shadow passed over the hole making him think he'd blinked, but he hadn't. Caldwell watched, his heart thudding in his chest - the crew knows they're here. Then he saw it.  
It was most definitely a Dagger unit. Despite the pain in his leg, which was all but forgotten at the moment, Steven limped and staggered about in a small circle as he tried to get a visual on the fighter zipping past overhead through the hole that limited his vision. As it went skyward it gave him a chance to get a good look at it, then it rolled and dove for the surface again, leveling out and standing on its wing. It passed over a few times and then he watched it do a fancy victory roll and then dip one wing then the other. It was signaling someone. Who? A ground team? - or him?

# # #

Volga Mountain Range  
Search and Rescue Team  
Late Afternoon/Day4

It was now late afternoon and the team had been searching the area for hours. The sun had ascended high into the sky hours ago, bearing down on them, and Dr. Garman thought if it was that hot and uncomfortable for the SAR team, what was it like for those who may be injured. There were a few deep gouges in the land all around them, like giant footprints, making it obvious that the Jumper had been there. It’d obviously slammed into the ground repeatedly; skipping like a stone on the surface of a pond, most likely because John had fought to keep the ship from completely running aground.  
"You would think there would be something," she called over to Sam. "A quarter panel, a wreckage trail... anything. I swear it's almost like they just got swallowed up whole."  
"Listen!" Teyla shouted from a dozen yards away and the entire group stopped moving and listened as they were told. The sound of the 302 was upon them again and smiles spread through the group as they all looked skyward.

# # #

Caldwell let out a sound of joy as the 302 flashed by overhead then his eyes narrowed. "Are they insane?? It's not safe to be flying around here!" he growled, torn between elation for their tenacious will in finding their missing or reprimanding them for risking others for the sake of two when he got out of there.  
Steven spun around as best he could and scurried back, limping and stumbling toward the Jumper. There were emergency flares in the pack behind the pilot's seat in the cockpit if he could get there. He stumbled in his excitement and almost went down on his face, but caught the side of the Jumper and saved himself the fall.  
"Colonel!" he called out breathlessly, the pain coming back on him hard. He dropped his hand to his throbbing leg; it burned with intensity and all the activity apparently testing his pain threshold. The splint was in place but his bones and muscles screamed with the activity. He was covered in sweat now - whether from a slight fever or from the exertion in the humid morning, he wasn't sure and didn't care at the moment. "Colonel…! Sheppard!" he called to the other man inside the ship. "Can you reach out for the pack of emergency flares behind the seat in the cockpit? It's right over your head!"  
Caldwell blinked as he realized Sheppard was in no condition to move about even if he'd been conscious enough to understand. He turned and threw himself across the floor of the Jumper, wildly pulling himself with his hands past Sheppard until he made it to the cockpit. He reached out and yanked open the storage compartment behind the seat. He pulled out the pack of self-contained flares and crawl-scrambled back to the opening. Caldwell grabbed one of the flares and pushed himself down the ramp.  
"Hurry!" he ordered himself through clenched teeth as he slid down the ramp. Angling the flare tube toward the hole in the cave ceiling he yanked the trigger lanyard. The pop was loud in the confined space and the flare soared up through the hole overhead, but at a low angle. His eyes lit up as the flare exited the cave and then his face dropped as it flew straight into the tall trees instead of into the open sky. "Crap," he said and looked around for options. "I wonder....." he started to say then paused to lean into the side of the ship where the drive-pod was stuck open. They had about a dozen drones on the open side, just sitting there dormant like ugly squid-like aliens. He stared at them then shifted to look at the other officer lying inside the shuttle's bay. Caldwell pushed himself into the cargo area and maneuvered himself slowly and carefully back down onto the floor next to Sheppard and scuttled up close to him.  
"Sheppard?" he pulled John's head up off the floor and rested it on his forearm as he tried to shake him awake. "Sheppard, come on, wake up. I need your help," Steven told and John's eyes fluttered open and rolled over white again. "John! Come on! We got a 302 over head, I need you to fire a drone. Can you do that?"  
John mumbled incoherently and Steven tried again. He felt bad about shaking the guy around, but Sheppard was the only one who could fire the drones and they desperately needed a flare to signal the ship overhead.  
"Come on, Sheppard, wake up," he tried again, tapping his hand against John's reddened face then he gave him one solid slap and John's eyes flew open for a second. "John... think "fire a drone", can you do that?" Caldwell grabbed John's hand and flattened it against the deck of the ship. "Fire a drone!"  
John's fevered brain quickly rewound to nearly six years ago and flying a beautiful blue helo over the pristine white fields of the Antarctic; his passenger was one General Jack O'Neill and a sudden radio transmission broke through their quiet chatter. "We have a rogue drone that can seek a target on its own. Land now…"  
"Rogue drone..." John mumbled in his altered mental state.  
"Yesss," Caldwell encouraged him. "Send it. Fire the drone, Sheppard."  
"...firing drones..." John muttered, as he now relived the Wraith siege of Atlantis four years ago. The Jumper's body jolted to the side as if a giant hand had tried to roll it over and Steven knew a drone had launched from the side of the ship. He looked down at John with a hint of awe on his face.  
"Damn," he whispered, amazed at the amount of power the younger man held literally in the palm of his hand and yet he never thought to wield it to gain his own personal power or favors. "Good man," Steven lauded as he recognized the loud swoosh as the drone launched. He moved John's head from his arm and placed him back down gently on the floor and then scrambled back to his feet, using the bench and the makeshift crutch to lean on. Steven moved as fast as he could back to the ramp just in time to see the spiraling projectile circle the cave's interior and then it arced up and over his head and shot out the hole the previous drone had created.  
Steven kept his focus on its trajectory and watched as it went up and up and up. In the bright daylight he hoped the wide contrail and brilliant yellowish orange glow would be enough to get a visual on it.  
Inside the Jumper the fever wracked gene carrier mumbled out commands as he dreamed of battles long past. "... seek a target... on its own... better... land... now... fire... four... atta… time... sure ya' can... Carson... concentrate... can't keep... this up... for... ever..."  
High above them the drone read John's mind and veered off to seek out the Dagger. Neither Sheppard nor Caldwell knew where the fighter was though Steven was relying on the pilot to be watching. Little did he know this drone was actually hunting down the 302 on a snaking, serpentine course and he wouldn't be aware of it either unless he were able to see them both pass overhead. 

# # #

Skies above Ziya  
F-302 Search Team

They were on their approach when a light shot up from the approximate area of the crash site leaving a thick contrail in its wake. Lili'th slowed her craft and began a wide circle, narrowing her eyes as she tried to identify the source. Carver must have been doing the same thing as they both spoke at the same time, as they recognized the object.  
"Drone!" they both shouted in warning. At that same time the drone seemed to make a decision and stopped its meandering in favor of coming after the fighter ship. Again, Lili'th and Adam spoke at the same time, "Uh oh!"  
Lili'th had, of course, been to many briefings and training sessions on how the drones worked and what to expect of them and from them. What she hadn't expected was for JohnSheppard to shoot at her. If he wanted to get their attention, he'd succeeded. Lili'th banked the 302, ducking the drone and returning to her target, the possible crash site. Shooting the 302 low over the hole in the canopy, she called back to Carver.  
"You will have to help watch the drone and guide me. We cannot risk returning to Daedalus. It will simply follow us."  
"On it," Adam replied tersely, longing to be in control, but now more than ever realizing that as a natural pilot, Lili'th had the best chance of saving their hides. He did spare a moment to wonder why their downed comrades would shoot at them; perhaps they were delirious with illness or injury or simply suffering hallucinatory effects. Maybe the sound of the fighter had them in a panic state or perhaps they'd simply gotten to the point of desperation. "It's on our tail, Lili'th," Adam stated as he twisted to watch the drone as best he could through the glass canopy.  
Without reliable instruments, keeping tabs on the drone was going to be next to impossible. If leading it back and forth across the opening didn't flag JohnSheppard to their plight, she would have to try leading it into space and engaging it once their instruments came back on line. She didn't know if the 302's weapons would have any effect on the Ancient weapon or not, though she highly doubted it. Perhaps JohnSheppard had fired the drone intending it as a locator beacon. If so, why hadn't he shut it down? Did he not realize the 302 had returned to the site?  
Lili'th spoke as she piloted toward the crash site, "AdamCarver, I am going to fly low over the hole in the canopy a couple of times in hopes that JohnShepperd and ColonelCaldwell can see our current... plight. If the drone is not deactivated, we will have to try to return to space and engage it there... when the winds return it will be impossible to keep playing tag with it amongst the trees."  
Carver acknowledged her plan as their only option for now and sat back as Lili'th literally buzzed the opening in the foliage with the drone hot on their tail. Circling high and dodging it amongst the taller trees slowed the drone down enough for them to make their next flyover. The third trip over the opening had the drone once again on their tail.

# # #

As Steven focused on the sounds of the 302 his eyes widened as he heard the whine of the fighter close by as if coming in from a high altitude for a strafing run. He scurried down the ramp and hobbled back to the larger opening in the ceiling where the Jumper had originally dropped into the cave from the sloping ground above. He was finally able to get himself in a position that he thought was best for optimal viewing overhead and waited only a moment before the sound came back now a third time for another flyover. The 302's whine was nearly ear piercing as the acoustics in the underground cave amplified the sound and Caldwell cringed as he waited for it to abate. He tossed a glance toward the Jumper where Sheppard lay semi-conscious and spared a grin for himself before looking back up just in time to see a missile zip past as it followed the fighter way too closely. Steven's smile immediately vanished and his mouth dropped open as he realized his "flare" was on a hunting mission and trying to engage the 302 in air combat.  
"Oh crap!" he exclaimed. He quickly ascertained that not only did he have to get Sheppard to break off the drone's attack but he still needed it to lead the SAR teams to the crash site. It zipped by again as it chased the 302 over the cave's skylight once again. He needed to get John to shut it down and hobbled back toward the ship. As he clambered up the ramp again he could tell by the angle of Sheppard's turned head that he was unconscious. He threw himself down to the floor, falling half atop the injured man and pushed John's hand to the deck again. "Sheppard…! Shut it down!" John mumbled but was not aware. "Sheppard…! Listen to me... I need you to shut the drone down!"  
"Before it hurts... someone..." John said, unknowingly repeating the words he'd read in Dr. Weir's report about how she'd gotten Dr. Beckett to shut down the drone that had targeted his helicopter years before.  
"Yes! Concentrate! Shut it down before it hurts somebody!" Caldwell urged.  
High above them the drone broke off its attack run and veered away from the fighter in a very wide and lazy arc then ascended at a shallow angle, wiggling its tail and leaving a squiggly vapor trail, then it flew up and then downward as if it was riding a rollercoaster and then spun in the air as if doing its own victory roll as it crossed over the nose of the 302, causing Lili'th to let out a surprise yelp. It did a loop-de-loop a few times and then headed back toward the opening in the canopy.  
John watched the drone in his fever dream as it came back into view, descending from the bright blue sky and blinding sunlight. He ordered it to shut down and in his dream the drone's illuminated cephalopod shaped body winked out as it powered down. Immediately, just like the previous night, the drone dropped from the sky in a straight line to the ground. Caldwell heard it hit the ground above them with a thud and then watched as sand and gravel rained into the cavern from above as the drone slid down the embankment above him before it too dropped with the sound of a dead fish flung onto a hard surface, or in the drone's case, a dead squid. It landed a few yards from the Jumper as the gravel and debris from the slope above rained down on it. Then he looked back up, hoping that the 302 pilot had followed it visually.


	22. Chapter 22

<><><><>

Chapter Twenty-Two

In the skies above Ziya  
F-302 Search Team

Swinging the 302 about, Lili'th followed the drone's trail watching as it looped, wiggled, and acted as if it was playing 'catch me if you can'. As it disappeared into the hole in the foliage below, the Jaffa pilot brought the sleek fighter in as close as possible. Raising the craft's nose slightly, Lili'th literally balanced the Interceptor on the swirling winds.  
"Hold her steady, Lil," Adam barked sharply as he finessed the sensors and then let out a whoop of triumph. "Jumper signature and two life forms detected! You found them, Lady Lil!" Adam's voice was exultant as he realized that their presumed location was now an absolute.  
Lili'th gave a nod of acknowledgment and smiled radiantly. Her dark eyes had caught a glimpse of a shadow within the shadows; a long cylindrical outline. For a few more moments, Lili'th concentrated on the controls that allowed them to hover, before breaking off from the almost standstill into a low roll, and then shooting back toward space so they could circle the SAR team and guide them toward the cavern.  
Steven watched from the dark recesses of the cavern as the 302 came back and seemed to hover in midair. He could see the tiny movements of compensation as he envisioned the skilled pilot tweaking the controls just enough to keep the ship pillowed on a pocket of air. A smile crept across his face as the ship broke away and did a flyover, performing a daringly low roll of victory before vanishing.  
"It's Lili'th..." he grinned as he hobbled and half-skipped back up the ramp and dropped heavily down beside the Lt. Colonel. "I'm going to have to talk to those kids. They shouldn't be flying in these conditions," he told John as if he was alert and aware. Steven grinned, realizing they were now found and then sucked in a breath as his leg suddenly throbbed heavily from all the running about he'd done. He was elated at having been spotted, but still a tad upset at the risks his pilots were taking, even one as gifted as Lilith. The renewed focus on his own leg caused Steven to toss a look to Sheppard. "How about you? How're you doing?" he asked as he returned. Realizing the injured man was again drenched in fevered sweat he wiped down John’s face and neck with the cloth. "I'm sure they have a doctor with them. Hang in there, Sheppard. You hear me?" Caldwell looked around as his stomach growled loudly. "Well, I guess I've worked up an appetite." He certainly felt as though he could eat as the stress of the unknown future had just waned drastically. He reached for an aluminum package on the bench and a fresh canteen from the stockpile of water that John had gathered. He opened the bag and bit into the sandwich.  
"I'm finally starving.... which, I imagine, is a good sign after all this." Caldwell looked around the small area, then back to Sheppard who was mercifully unconscious. "Can't say much for the ambience, but the service is good." He ate quietly with sporadic conversation to his unresponsive companion and then settled down to wait, still aware that it may very well be another day or two before the rescue teams got to them... but they'd been found.

# # #

The search team on the ground watched the air show above them with tense focus. Another drone meant John was still alive and sending up flares for the fighter overhead to home in on. Of course the fact that this one was chasing down the fighter made for tense moments on the ground as well as in the air. They all watched as the golden drone went cold, turning black in the skies above before spiraling to the ground again, followed closely by the 302. As the projectile led the fighter to the ground, Ronon took off in the direction it led them, down the side of the mountain north of where they were conducting their focused search. Like a gazelle he raced over rocks and through tall grass with the rest of the team chasing after him more carefully, not feeling as sure-footed as he obviously did.  
He cleared a large outcropping, sliding down the other side of it toward the ledge below as he kept his eyes on the descending drone. It disappeared when it should've hit the ground and bounced and Ronon blinked to re-focus his eyes. What he had thought was a solid mass of ground below him was actually another sloped drop off and the drone had disappeared behind it. Landing gracefully on his feet below the rock slide, Ronon looked back up as Lorne appeared above him.   
"Over there!" he called back to the team who were now lining up above him.  
Sam shielded her eyes from the sun's glare and let out a long breath. "Can you see anything?" she called down.  
"No," he replied. "I'm gonna go take a look."  
"Be careful," she advised, knowing she didn't have to but feeling she'd not done her duty if she hadn't.  
Ronon made his way through the rocky terrain until he reached the base of the grassy ridge in the distance. From there he ran ahead keeping his eyes to the area he was sure the drone had gone. When he reached the top of the ridge and looked down, he seemed to freeze.  
"What?" Madison asked as she came up alongside Sam and the others. "Did he find something?" she asked, peering across the landscape to where Ronon stood.  
"I don't know," Sam answered. "I sure hope so."  
Ronon turned around and waved his arms above his head. He was suddenly quite animated and Teyla's eyebrows rose with excited hopes and wishes. "He's got something!"  
The team began to make their way toward him. Some took the same route as the Satedan, making quick work of the rock formation and running to meet him. Others stayed with the renquins and took their time to find an easier way to get the animals to the site. As Sam, Lorne and Carson ran across the grass covered mountain side, Ronon flailed his arms as if losing his balance and suddenly disappeared from view.   
"Ronon…!" Sam called out.  
The gravel covering the steep slope had shifted beneath his feet and Ronon found himself sliding toward the ragged hole in the ground about fifty feet below the spot where he’d been standing. He picked up speed as the ground seemed to come to life beneath him and as he disappeared into the darkness below, the sensation of being swallowed by a large alien creature sent a moment of terror through him. The shifting movement of the surface soil exposed the large, winding roots of the enormous trees above and Ronon scrambled for a handhold on the structure to slow his fall. His descent sent him plummeting toward the cave floor but just as suddenly he got snagged up in a tangle of vines that slowed his fall with a jolt before snapping under his shock weight and dropping him safely the final ten feet to the dirt below.  
"Rawwwwrrrhhhh!" he growled angrily at the stupidity of his own situation.

# # #

Caldwell had finished his sandwich and was trying to find a more comfortable position when he heard a noise outside the ship, outside the cave... above them. Voices, maybe? He scooted forward, getting nearer the hatch, trying to crane his neck to look upward at the hole.  
"Hey, Sheppard... did you hear that?" Caldwell's words were suddenly drowned out by the shifting sound of small rocks, debris and dirt pouring into the cave again. A shadow cast itself upon the dirt floor; something large flailing as it fell from the surface above. Steven watched the shadow and focused on the strange form that crashed to the ground a few yards to the side of the Puddle Jumper.  
Caldwell's eyes widened as the creature was enveloped in a billowing dust cloud and his mind flashed to an image of another of those damned cats finding an unlikely way into the cave to finish them off. His hand darted to his side and, yanking his Beretta free, brought the pistol up and fired at the cloud of dust, sending three rounds into the flying dirt before he paused, both hands now around the pistol as he waited for a better visual on the target to shoot without wasting ammo.

# # #

Rodney was taking the longer and easier way around with Ioann and the pack animals as they carefully made their way in the same direction the rest of the team had gone. He led the renquins behind him and stopped suddenly when he heard the muted gunfire in the distance. He heard Sam shout for Ronon and he turned his head slightly trying to triangulate on her voice.  
"Come on!" he ordered, and pulled heavily on the lead reins of the animals he towed along. Ioann moved diagonally with his charges, trying to intersect with the rest of the group who were last seen ahead and to the right of them. McKay reached Sam just on the heels of the other team members who were slower due to the weighted packs they carried.  
"Sam... what's up?" he asked and glanced around. "Uhmm, where's Ronon?"  
Slashing and scrambling through the foliage in the direction of Sam's voice, Teyla lunged forward with all her strength. She and Madison had taken another route that was easier on them as they carried heavy packs too. The moment they heard the three shots, muffled but beyond doubt gunfire, Teyla called as loudly as she possibly could, hoping her treble pitch would carry over the cacophony of jungle noises.  
"John?" Teyla called out, her heart pounding. "John! Colonel Caldwell!" Standing still and listening, she waited only a moment before continuing to hack her way through the bush. Amazingly, she was only a few machete swipes and perhaps only fifteen feet from where the rest of the team was now standing and looking down. She could also hear someone else approaching and looked to her left to see Rodney and Ioann join the group just as she and Dr. Garman exited the trees. She called over to the others, "Any sign of them?" At the same time she noted the concerned looks newly planted on the faces of her teammates. "Where's Ronon?"

# # #

Steven stared wide-eyed, pistol pointed steady as he watched the large dust cloud billow upward, his heart pounding as he imagined the mother of the dead kit coming to bear down on them in maternal vengeance. He blinked, confused, and frowned as he saw the "large cat" roll and cover. He also noticed, in a glance, that the perpetrator was wearing leather boots and had wild shoulder length ropes of dark hair that whipped about as the large man rolled to ground to cover from the shots. Caldwell snapped his hands upward, to point the hot firearm toward the ceiling as he tried to identify the intruder.  
Ronon stayed still, lying face down on his stomach, hands folded over his head as he waited for the last echoing rings of the gunfire to fade.   
"Hey! Cease fire! It's me - Ronon!" he yelled and waited the space of a few heartbeats to realize that the gunfire had indeed ceased before cautiously lifting his head. The dust began to clear, and when it had enough for him to see past it, his eyes settled on the man peering out of the darkened Jumper.  
"Caldwell?" he questioned as he didn't recognize the person as John Sheppard. He moved, pushing himself to his feet and stepped toward the armed man cautiously. "Colonel? Are you okay?" he asked and clearly saw the relief in the officer as his whole body relaxed and his gun hand fell to his lap limply holding the Beretta.

# # #

Colonel Carter looked first at Rodney and Carson then at Teyla and Madison, before her attention was drawn to Major Lorne. "Down there," she told them. "One moment he was standing right here, the next he was gone." Sam peered over the ridge down toward the hole, trying to see what they were dealing with. "Ronon?" she shouted, having no idea how deep it was or how far he'd fallen. "Ronon! Can you hear me? Are you all right?"  
"Yeah," Ronon called out. He looked up, shielding his eyes against the light dust that continued to fall from above. "I'm fine," he called back. "I can see you! You're about forty feet above us."  
"Us?" Sam, Teyla and Lorne echoed at the same time.  
"I found them!" he called back. "I see Caldwell!" Those up top shared smiles and gestures of congratulatory relief and then Sam shushed them to calm down.   
"You see Colonel Caldwell?" she asked to be certain.  
"Yeah, the Jumper's down here!"  
"What about Colonel Sheppard?" Teyla asked anxiously.  
"Yeah… hang on!" Ronon shouted back up and moved quickly to the ramp. He knelt down and surveyed the man's overall condition, noting the head wound and the heavy splint. "Broken?" he asked.  
"Yeah, but Sheppard did a hell of a job taking care of me."  
"Where is he?" Ronon asked; his eyes full of worry and afraid to hear bad news.  
"In there. He's in bad shape," Caldwell told him, pointing over his shoulder. Ronon jumped up and lunged inside, his heart dropping into his stomach at the sight of his best friend.  
“John?” he said with an urgent tone, dropping down to the deck he pulled his friend up onto his lap, cradling his head and shoulders. “Sheppard? Hang on, buddy,” he told him and Caldwell watched him as he tried to comfort the unconscious man. Rocking John in his arms Ronon hugged his friend to his chest, patting down the wild, sweat dampened hair with a tender touch. Then he noticed the injured leg exposed by the blanket that had been pulled aside. Ronon reached down and scowled deeply. “What happened here?” he asked Caldwell.  
“We were attacked,” Steven told him and pointed at the large feline lying in the dirt in the shadow of the Jumper, “by that. He was trying to protect me… and it got its teeth into him. He’s got a high fever and has been mostly unresponsive since. He needs medical attention urgently.”  
Ronon understood and lowered John carefully to the floor. Scrambling to his feet he ran back out and shouted up through the hole to his teammates. “We need the doctors down here now!”


	23. Chapter 23

<><><><>

Chapter Twenty-Three

Carson was the first to be lowered into the cave and Ronon watched from below as he descended, his medical pack swinging beneath him from a short line. Ronon reached out to grab it and loosen it from the line as Dr. Beckett continued to descend until he could set his feet on the dirt floor.  
"He's down!" Ronon shouted toward the people above.  
“Oh, thank God," Dr. Beckett stated, letting out a breath. "That was the most unnerving thing I think I've ever experienced."  
"Give him some slack!" Ronon yelled up, and helped disconnect him from the hoist line and safety rope. He carried the bag for Dr. Beckett as he grabbed onto the man's arm and nearly hauled him over to the Jumper. Those above then pulled the ropes and connectors back up to the surface for the next person to be lowered into the cave. "Sheppard looks really bad," Ronon told him as they neared the ramp, but Caldwell was the first in sight and Carson knelt down to assess him.  
"I'm okay, Doctor," Steven told Beckett.  
"Like hell ya' are," Carson replied.  
"Seriously, Doctor, I'm doing okay. I can wait," Steven assured him and put his hand up to ward off the doctor's attentions. "See to Sheppard. He needs you more."  
Carson paused for a moment and then agreed. "Very well," he said and Ronon dragged him up and set him on his feet before he could shift his position. "Oh, thank you, Ronon."

# # #

Above them at the edge of the pit, Lorne and Sam had set up a rigging unit using two of the renquins as heavy anchors for the descending ropes snaked over the edge of the hole at their feet. The animals would also give them an extreme mechanical advantage when hoisting personnel and equipment back to the surface. Sam helped Madison into a harness and secured her to a descending rope, attaching her heavy med kit to a section of the rope that would dangle the weight below her; should anything happen the heavy pack wouldn't fall from above her and cause the good doctor injury.  
"Ready?" Lorne asked.  
"No," Madison shot back in a snide tone. Evan smiled and chuckled lightly as he attached the safety rope to the D-ring on the back of the harness between her shoulder blades. It appeared the two doctors shared the same opinion of daring and death-defying activities.  
"You'll be fine," he assured her.  
"Easy for you to say," Madison replied evenly. "I don't see you tethered to ropes and... and large, smelly animals."  
Sam stepped up to her with a smile and double-checked all her buckles and knots and reminded her quietly, "Steven's down there waiting for you."  
"Right," Madison replied. "I hope he's okay... because I'm going to kill him."  
Sam laughed lightly and then nodded to Lorne to give her some slack as she escorted Dr. Garman to the edge. They both looked down at the dark pit below.  
"Oh my God," Maddie commented seriously. This had no humor left in it whatsoever.  
"Just lean your butt back until you feel the harness snug up around your hips," Sam told her as if she'd given the lesson before and Maddie nodded.  
Garman held her breath as she leaned back slowly, Sam held onto the rope to give her a sense of security. Maddie gasped, as all newbies did, just before the secure feeling of the harness hugged her hips and thighs, taking her weight easily. She let out a breath and relaxed and Sam smiled at her.  
"Down you go," Carter said as Major Lorne slowly let out the rope.

# # #

Colonel Caldwell sat on the ramp watching the static line moving about as another black bag was lowered from above. A few feet above the pack he saw a pair of boots and slender shapely legs and then he recognized the woman descending into the cave.  
As she dangled from the rope, Madison looked to the ground below and slowly made out the Jumper's shape as her vision adjusted to the dark interior of the cave. The second thing she noted was the large, fanged cat lying dead beside the Jumper's ramp and she scowled at the sight of its blood caked mouth. Giving another look around her immediate area, alert for any other animals, Madison anxiously waited for the ground to come up beneath her feet. Her gaze came back around toward the ship just as her boots touched down and she realized Steven was sitting at the ramp watching her.  
"Steven!" she called out in relief. She hurried to loosen the rope contraption and then bent to untie the medical bag from its tether. She gathered it up and ran over to him, dropping the bag on the ramp beside him as she took note of the splint. "Look at you," she scolded lightly.  
"Hello, Maddie," Caldwell greeted her warily with a warm, but apprehensive, grin.  
Madison raised her eyes from his broken leg to his face. She paused for a moment to just look at him and then she pulled him into her arms, wrapping them tightly around him. His arms came up to encircle her too and he held her snugly, relishing the feel of her warmth and comfort against him. She pulled back a bit and gave him a firm kiss on the lips and then she hugged the stuffing out of him again.  
"Damn it, Steven! You should be on board your ship. What are you doing here?" she scolded him as she nearly strangled him with her embrace.  
"I wanted to surprise you," he told her and then she slowly loosened herself from him and looked at him closely. She put her palm gently against his cheek and gave him a small grateful smile.  
"Well, you certainly did that," she told him. "You are in so much trouble right now, mister. When I get you back to that ship of yours, you and I are going to have a very, very long talk. Now let me take a look at this." She began her examination with his splinted leg, and commented on Colonel Sheppard's skill in emergency first aid. "John did this?" she asked.  
"Yes, he did," Caldwell nodded as he watched her work.  
"He did good… very good."  
"I know," Steven replied quietly.  
His splint was one of the strongest and most secured pieces of handmade equipment Maddie had ever seen in the field, although she sensed Steven's answer profoundly encompassed more aspects of Sheppard's skills than just the splinting. Because of John's obvious efforts to protect the broken limb from further harm, the leg showed little deformity despite lingering discoloration, although she was sure that probably wasn't the case four days ago. Dr. Garman did a close survey of his other extremities, along with his back, abdomen and chest, finding the bruised and cracked ribs taped nice and snug as well.   
"Any difficulty breathing?" she asked.  
"No," he answered. "Well...” he hesitated, “at first, but not since he wrapped me up. It feels a lot better now."  
"I'm sure," Maddie agreed. It was obvious to her that Colonel Caldwell couldn't have been in better hands these past few days and her worries calmed significantly as her assessment continued. She checked the small laceration atop his domed head, inspecting it and then cleaning it she dressed it with a fresh bandage.  
Teyla had descended too as Dr. Garman reunited with Colonel Caldwell. The Athosian had moved quickly to the ship's ramp and managed a glimpse inside the crowded cargo bay. She couldn't see much of John, but his booted feet made it obvious that he was lying on the metal floor of the ship on his back. Dread crept into the pit of her stomach as Teyla noted the somber mood inside the shuttle where Ronon was assisting Dr. Beckett.  
Teyla opted to try to stay distracted and offered to assist Maddie with treating Colonel Caldwell instead. She helped Dr. Garman get him ready to be moved while she waited for a chance to see Colonel Sheppard.

# # #

Carson did a thorough assessment of John's condition and the serious look on his face had Ronon worried. He watched as Beckett took a stethoscope from the large bag and listened to John's heart and then took his vitals. Ronon sat beside him petting down Sheppard's hair with slow, gentle strokes as Beckett pulled off the blankets and began tugging at the wet clothes.  
"These damp things will cause him pneumonia," he stated as he pulled open John's shirt. He let his hands run over his patient's chest and abdomen as he searched for any not-so-obvious injuries. Finding no evidence of any there he moved to the soiled dressings and tourniquet around John's thigh. Carson pulled the belt off and dropped it to the side and then cut off the bandages covering the wound. "My God..." Carson whispered at the sight of the gaping holes in the torn and bloodied flesh. "I take it that cat took a bite out of him?" Raising his voice, he projected the question to Caldwell.  
"Yeah, a couple of times… it tried to drag him off into the tunnels, but we gave it a good fight. Unfortunately it meant playing a round of tug-of-war... with Sheppard as the rope. I won the prize, but Sheppard’s paying for it."  
"Aye, it looks that way," Carson replied and got to work. He began to remove items from the medical pack and tossed a look over his shoulder. "Madison? If the colonel isn't in a life threatening condition I could use your help here, please."  
Maddie nodded and gave Steven a small grin. "I'll be back." She moved into the cargo area and took a large step over Carson and his med pack as Ronon shifted toward John's head to get out of the way. "Oh dear," she remarked as she knelt down between them.  
"He needs fluids. Can you start a line for me?" Carson asked and Maddie nodded as she grabbed a coil of I.V. tubing and a bag of replenishing fluids. She wrapped a piece of rubber tubing tightly around Sheppard's bicep and tested his arm, looking for a vein. He'd lost a lot of blood and was somewhat dehydrated so it took her a moment to find one. She swabbed the area with a sterile wipe and pushed a needle smoothly into his arm and attached the tube. "Hold this," she said, pushing the bag into Ronon's arms. He cradled it awkwardly before adjusting its position.  
She taped the needle securely to John's skin and then taped a length of the tube to his forearm so it would have slack and the needle would not break off in his arm if the tubing was tugged accidentally. Meanwhile, Carson was inspecting the ugly wound on John's leg, cutting away the pant fabric to expose the entire area.  
"This doesn't look good at all," he commented. Madison looked down at it and scowled at the swollen tissue and bluish tint to his skin above the open wound.  
"Looks infected," she stated.  
"Or toxic... like a poison," Carson nodded.  
"That's why I put a tourniquet on it," Caldwell offered from behind them. "He went down with fever really fast; made me think of a viper, like... rattlesnake poison or something.  
Carson nodded that he understood and Maddie pulled a vial from the shared pack. She took out another hypodermic and turned the vial of liquid upside down, sticking the needle through the upturned top of the bottle. Pulling back the plunger of the syringe, she filled it with the antibiotic medicine and then slipped the needle into the port on the I.V. tube.  
"How long as he been with fever?" Carson asked Steven.  
"All night,” Steven replied. “It's spiked really high a few times," Caldwell told him. "He's been convulsing too. Scared the crap out of me..."  
"I'm sure it did," Beckett replied, nodding in understanding. “How many times did he go into convulsive seizures?”  
“Three… maybe, four times,” Caldwell replied.  
"Colonel Sheppard?" Carson said leaning over John and taking his face in his hands. He tried numerous times to get him to wake up, but there was no response at all. Maddie took another set of vitals and wrote them down, sparing a glance toward Carson as she worked.  
Together they began to clean the wound and debriding it where needed. Ronon watched, wincing as they carefully cut away edges of the destroyed flesh, his own fingers pressing harder against John's head sub-consciously as he tensed, watching them work. He tasted bile in his throat as Carson poked deeply into the open puncture wounds, trying to get a full idea of the damage done to the limb, but Sheppard didn't even groan.  
Madison was standing by with a multi-trauma dressing folded down the middle lengthwise. She handed it to Carson when he was ready for it and the thick pad fully encompassed Sheppard's thigh, covering the entire wound, front and back. She pulled out a roll of wide tape and handed him lengths of it until he had the entire area securely covered. Dr. Garman then added a hit of generic, all-purpose anti-venin which was used against any poisonous bites incurred where the toxin could not be readily identified. Sometimes it would help enough to allow the victim to survive, although struggling through the effects of the poison, and other times it would have no effect at all, only time would tell.  
As the doctors worked diligently, Ronon shared a worried look now and again with Teyla who had remained standing on the ramp. Teyla watched silently from outside the ship, arms folded around herself in a self-comforting hug as she fought back her deepest fears. Finally, the doctors secured the leg with a flat splinting board beneath it to help support its weight and to add a bit more comfort for the patient should he regain consciousness during the trip back to the Daedalus.  
While all of this was taking place, the rest of the team had lowered stretchers and straps, which they'd taken from the other Jumper and had strapped to the pack animals before leaving on their journey to find the missing. A Stokes basket was lowered when Teyla called up to them that Caldwell was alert and oriented, but Sheppard was in bad shape and, at the moment, unconscious.  
Over the next hour or so, Caldwell was moved to the Stokes and raised to the surface carefully, while Sam supervised the lift and Ioann controlled the renquin. The animal was made to walk forward, raising the injured man from the pit. Major Lorne and Rodney helped pull the basket over the jagged edge of the hole and quickly dragged it onto solid ground, well away from the shifting gravel near the edge.

# # #

Below them, Ronon and Teyla helped with the long board they would use as a stretcher and began moving John's inert body onto it carefully. Carson worked with them to keep the I.V. tubes and bags in order as they moved his patient. "Okay, easy now," he said as they laid Sheppard carefully onto it. "Hold these," he asked of Ronon and handed the Satedan the bags of clear fluid.  
Meanwhile, Dr. Garman had gone to the dead feline to take scrape samples of its mouth and then surgically removed one of its upper and lower fangs and a good portion of its tongue, for further examination and testing when they got back to the proper, more advanced, analysis equipment. The more information they could gather the better to treat Colonel Sheppard most efficiently.  
Ronon watched as Dr. Beckett began to strap their unconscious friend onto the board. Teyla knelt at John's head, tenderly caressing his face and hair. She wished he was awake so she could offer him comfort, but it was hard to deny that his unconscious state was probably best at this point.  
Above them, Colonel Caldwell was removed from the rescue basket and allowed to rest nearby in the soft, sweet smelling grass. He grinned and squinted up at the blue sky, feeling the warm air and soft breeze on his skin. Sam stayed with him for a bit as they waited for the others to call up that they were ready to move Sheppard.  
"It's great to see you, Steven," she said, offering him a fresh canteen.  
"Thanks, Sam," he replied and looked around at the grassy meadows and tall trees waving gently overhead. "Freedom never tasted, or smelled, so good." He took a long drink of the fresh cold liquid and let out a long slow breath. "Thanks for coming for us, Colonel."  
"Not coming for you would go against our motto," Carter reminded him with a grin.  
"Yeah, well... I can't think of a better motto to live by right this second," he admitted. Sam nodded with a soft smile.  
Near the edge of the pit, Rodney helped Major Lorne rig up the Stokes again and lower it to those below. He wasn't the most agile amongst his teammates and he served them all better by staying aloft and helping out from this end, but it didn't change the fact that he felt a bit guilty for not being the first to the bottom to let Sheppard know they'd made it.  
Once John had been strapped securely to the backboard, he and the board were placed gingerly into the basket. He was wrapped tightly in fresh, dry blankets with the oxygen mask secured snugly to his face with the tank tucked safely between his legs so it wouldn't roll around or crush his injured leg.  
The lifting straps were once again secured and adjusted so during the lift John's head would be slightly higher than his feet and Ronon took up the guide line again. As those above raised their injured teammate, Teyla stood beside him watching nervously until the others reached out and pulled the basket from the hole and dragged it out of sight to safety.  
Ronon let go of the guiding line and Teyla leaned into him. He put one arm around her in comfort and she wrapped hers around his torso. The relief they both felt at having found their team leader, their friend, was palpable. A lot of her tension left her all at once and she needed Ronon's support to stay on her feet.  
"We got him," Ronon assured her, giving her a squeeze. Teyla smiled and nodded.  
"It's time to go home," she said quietly.  
"Yep," Ronon agreed. "So let's get you hooked up here." He walked her to the static lines that waited to raise them to the top. He got her situated in the harness and gave the signal to bring her up, so she could get to the top and tend to Sheppard. As she was lifted from the cave, the two doctors scavenged the Jumper's medical equipment to collect as much of the remaining supplies and as many portable oxygen tanks as they could stuff into their packs for the trip back with their two patients.

# # #

Teyla was assisted from the edge of the hole and immediately she searched for John as soon as she got her feet under her. Major Lorne and Colonel Carter helped to free her from the ropes and harness as she scrambled to get them off. As soon as she got her feet under her she searched for John, finding him where Rodney was watching over the two injured men and running to join him. She paused for just a moment, standing beside them, looking down at John then to Rodney.  
"He looks really bad," Rodney told her as if she couldn't see that for herself. McKay looked as though he wanted to cry and Teyla dropped to her knees and reached out to grip Rodney's arm in support.  
"He will be fine," she told him, not sounding so sure of that fact herself.  
Colonel Caldwell watched the two hovering over Sheppard, their personal feelings for their team leader and friend apparent in their expressions. He envied the other man for the loyalty he garnered from those he led. Steven hoped that his own crew might feel the same way about him in his absence.  
Teyla reached out and touched John's face, resting her palm against his pale cheek. Her eyes widened a bit at the fiery sensation of his flesh. "He's burning up," she breathed.  
"Yeah," Rodney nodded. He sat quietly watching as Teyla carefully reached down to take John's hand in hers.  
"He's been like that all night," Caldwell offered somberly. "We've got two of the best doctors in two galaxies here to take care of him though," he reminded them. Steven paused before adding, “He saved my life... more than once."  
Teyla and Rodney turned to look at him and the three shared a silent moment. Rodney was unsure of what to make of that; it felt awkward, but at the same time, significant. Perhaps the Colonel had been given the chance to learn something about their friend during their confinement together. Teyla gave Caldwell a small smile and nodded as she patted his hand. Steven nodded also before turning his attention to the activity going on near the pit's edge as the medical equipment and supplies were raised from the hole.


	24. Chapter 24

<><><><>

Chapter Twenty-Four

While Lorne and Ioann worked to get the others topside again, with Ronon below assisting in getting the doctors out of the cave, Sam walked over to check on the rescued. She looked at Steven and gave him a nod and a small smile.  
"How're you doing, Steven? You want some more water?" she asked, looking down at him. She was sweaty and dirty, evidence of the work she and the others had done, not only to find them, but also to free them as well. She wiped a loose strand of hair from her face with the back of her hand and took a deep breath.  
"I'm doing okay, Sam," Caldwell assured her.  
Sam nodded and looked to John. "How is he?" she asked and Teyla shook her head slowly.  
"He does not look well at all," she admitted. He was sweating profusely, his skin was almost too hot to touch and his color had gone a pale gray; a color she'd never seen on anyone who'd ultimately survived.  
Madison was the first out of the hole and, once she was freed from her ropes and harness, she marched straight to the two injured men. Sam turned as Dr. Garman approached, thankful to see one of the doctors up top.  
"Maddie," Sam greeted.  
"How's he doing?" Garman asked as she came around Sam and knelt beside John opposite Teyla.  
"Not good," Teyla answered, her voice sounding small with worry.  
Dr. Garman touched his face and sighed lightly. She tried not to show her worry though and busied herself checking the fluids and the set of the needle in his arm. She finally looked up, seeing Teyla and Rodney looking back as if waiting for her to break bad news. Maddie glanced up at Sam and she could see Steven looking at her from his place behind Teyla.  
"He'll be fine. It'll be a struggle for a while, but... he's strong... and stubborn," she told them, forcing a smile as she tried to reassure his teammates. Teyla offered a shaky smile in return. She knew just how stubborn John Sheppard could be, but she also knew that some things in life defied a person's will to survive. She swallowed back tears that suddenly threatened to rise and took a slow deep breath.  
A hand fell gently onto her shoulder and Teyla turned in mild surprise. Rodney was trying to comfort her, sharing his own grief and worry with her. She reached up to lay her hand over his and gave it a brief squeeze.  
Sam gave them a moment and then told them, "Ioann is going to assist us in building two travois for travel. We'll be just over there."  
Teyla nodded. Rodney decided to join them, since he was of no use to Sheppard just sitting here. He'd leave Teyla to do the comforting thing, she was better at it anyway. He rose to his feet and followed Sam to the open area where Major Lorne and Ronon were dropping the long branches they'd found within the thick jungle.  
Ioann had already begun lashing the branches together with a spool of parachute cord the Atlanteans had in their supplies. The task of building the framework was made easier by this new material, he noted. He really liked working with this fascinating cord; a fraction of the diameter of utility rope and yet it retained the tensile strength of thicker ropes with added functionality due to the ease of lacing and tying it.  
The work was fast and Ioann was able to complete the task in half the normal time because of the flexibility of the cord. They had one travois completed, dressed with cloth and blankets to cushion the ride for the injured, in just about an hour. Ioann took a long drink from his canteen as he paused to take a breather in the heat of the afternoon. The sun was taxing on him and the others as they worked, but it was a large task and they wouldn't be able to maneuver in the shaded jungle. Instead the team stopped now and again to take shelter briefly at the edge of the tree line. Just a few yards inside the tree line the ambient temperature was cooler by ten degrees and they had moved the two injured men there for shelter from the sun's rays.  
As Sam and Rodney helped Ioann with the second travois, Ronon and Lorne secured the first to Ronon's renquin. They took the time to be sure it was safely secured and had enough give to its supports to allow the contraption to shift easily with the terrain and allow for maximum comfort. Twenty minutes later saw that task complete and Lorne returned to help the others with the final touches on the framework of the second, while Ronon took his leave to check on Sheppard.  
He walked to the trees and Colonel Caldwell looked up at him from where he sat, leaning against a tree, and offered a cool canteen to the Satedan. Ronon took it with thanks and guzzled most of the contents before pouring the rest over his head to cool down. He took a moment to enjoy the cold water racing down his chest and back and then dropped the canteen beside Steven. He stepped over a downed sapling to the spot where Carson and Madison hovered over his friend.  
"How's he doing?" Ronon asked somberly. Carson and Maddie sat back on their heels and looked up at him.  
"Not well, I'm afraid," Beckett told him. "His fever is dangerously high and he's unresponsive."  
"What can we do?" Ronon asked. His eyes scanned the blankets they had tucked around John, his face was soaked with sweat and in the heat of the day it nearly made him sick to see his friend wrapped up like that. He also noted that they'd set the basket down with the head raised up on a small rock.  
Carson shook his head slowly. "Not a lot, right now. What he needs is submersion, but we have no way of doing that at the moment."  
"Submersion…?" Ronon echoed. "You mean like soaking in a bath?" he asked for clarification.  
"Aye," Carson nodded. "It's dangerous, but it's no more dangerous at this point than the fever itself."  
"We could pour the water over him," Ronon suggested, gesturing at the canteens.  
"I tried that last night," Caldwell interjected. "It wasn't a pleasant experience. He fought hard against it... taxed my own strength trying to hold him down."  
"I'm sure it did," Carson offered carefully. He understood the emotional toll the procedure can take on those performing it. It's a painful and scary situation for the fevered patient who doesn't understand that you're trying to help them, but it's also upsetting for those trying to help to have to see the torment their aid and good intentions cause the one already suffering. "That's why his clothes were soaked when we found you,” Carson realized. Steven nodded.  
"We're almost ready to have them moved," Ronon told them. "We can move Colonel Caldwell and come back for Sheppard if you want."  
Carson stood up and looked over at the travois and then down at his patient. "Actually, I'd prefer to move Colonel Sheppard now. Get him off his back. The angle of that contraption is perfect to help keep his head up, in a position of comfort, and hopefully will help to keep fluid from collecting in his lungs."  
"You got it," Ronon replied, rubbing his hands together. "Let's do it." He and Major Lorne lifted the basket from the ground and carried it to the travois. With Carson’s guidance they lifted John from the basket with the long splint secured to his injured leg, but left the backboard behind. Dr. Beckett didn’t think lying on a hard straight surface was going to be beneficial to his patient in any way and would only cause him more pain during the bumpy ride over rough terrain.  
Teyla secured the equipment on one of the pack renquins again as Colonel Sheppard was settled into the gentle embrace of the hammock device Ioann had constructed. John was placed and secured aboard his primitive sled while the second travois was lashed to Teyla‘s renquin. When the two transports were secured and ready for the trip back, Ronon and Beckett returned to the rest area for Colonel Caldwell. With the support of their shoulders, Steven hopped to his waiting transport and settled into it easily enough and with a few minor adjustments to the sled and cushioning materials and the team was ready to depart the area.  
Everyone mounted up, Teyla driving the renquin pulling Colonel Caldwell and Ronon astride the animal set up to pull Sheppard. Sam led off into the jungle with Rodney taking the second spot. Ronon followed with Sheppard and Carson rode directly behind them so he could keep an eye on his patient and call a halt to the troupe if needed.  
Teyla came up behind Dr. Beckett’s mount with Colonel Caldwell in tow. Steven looked up as Maddie brought her animal in line behind him and he smiled at her from his comfortable spot. He almost felt guilty about his means of travel as the motion of the hammock-like device was already lulling him toward sleep. Madison smirked at him affectionately as his eyelids grew heavy and he dozed off only a few dozen yards from the rescue site.  
Ioann brought up the group’s six with Major Lorne as the rear guard. Everyone remained unnaturally quiet for the first hours of the journey, as the thoughts of wild animals they’d already encountered on the way up replayed in their heads.  
They were able to make it to the first clearing just as it was becoming too dark on the trail to see ahead of them clearly enough for safe travel and, with a sigh of relief, Sam rode her mount to the opposite side as those with the injured steered their animals to the center. Everyone dismounted and quickly took up the task of raising camp. While most of the men erected the tents, Teyla and Rodney scoured the surrounding jungle for fire wood. A hot meal was in order and everyone was looking forward to full bellies before crashing for the night. While the chores were being seen to, the two doctors focused on their patients’ immediate needs.  
Madison visited with Steven quietly as they waited for the structures to be raised. She offered assistance to Carson as he tended John’s injuries but for the most part, he was able to take care of Colonel Sheppard solo as he was still unconscious and not in need of personal comforts yet.  
After firewood was collected, Teyla volunteered herself and Rodney to walk down to the stream and fill up any canteens or gerry cans that needed replenishing for the remainder of their journey. When she returned to the camp, Teyla brought a large can to Carson for him to use in battling John’s fever.  
“Ah, thank you, Love,” he returned with a smile.  
“Do you need any assistance, Dr. Beckett?” she asked, including Rodney in her offer as he stood never too far away from her now. Teyla figured McKay was feeling a bit lost at the moment. He’d usually tag onto John when he found himself in situations that left him feeling in over his head. She didn’t mind at all though and she and Rodney did help out when it came time to move the two injured men into the large tent erected in the center of the clearing.  
A support frame was constructed inside the tent and each sled was pulled inside and affixed to the framework, allowing them to remain in the same position as they were in transit. Caldwell’s would be the easiest to bring inside as he was able to get up and move around, even if it was to hobble around a bit, so Sheppard’s was brought in first as the men would need the entire area inside the tent to maneuver the sled into position. They carried it in carefully, cautious of jostling the injured man inside it too much.   
While Steven was given his leave of the travois to sit with the others while they got a fire going and shared in the duties to fix a hot meal for everyone, Sheppard was left to rest inside the safety of the tent. Dr. Beckett checked on him often as the group settled down around the fire. They visited and gave thanks for being brought back together. They ate and spoke of the coming journey, making brief plans to cross over the broken shelf they’d left behind on the way here, as well as other situations brought up in conversation. But tomorrow was another day… and they had to get through this night first. They visited quietly and each of them relished the calm the night brought.  
As the evening wore on the group slowly went their separate ways as weariness pulled them down. Teyla peeked in on the two injured men through the tent flap to see both of them sleeping soundly then continued to the sleep area she‘d chosen earlier. A few minutes after she headed to her sleeping bag, Ronon tossed the stick he’d been fiddling with into the low fire and gave Rodney a sturdy slap on the shoulder as a cue for him to turn in too. Sam smiled and said good night to both and the two friends got to their feet and quietly slipped away. She could hear Ronon’s voice rolling back toward her in the still of the night like distant thunder over the plains as he assured McKay that things were good now. She couldn’t hear his words, but the tone of his voice was clear. She smiled thoughtfully before Carson’s voice interrupted her reverie.  
"I’ll check on Colonel Sheppard before I turn in." He turned to Madison. "I can check on Colonel Caldwell while I’m in there."  
"He should be sleeping peacefully through the night. I gave him a mild sedative to help him sleep through any minor discomforts," she told him and Carson nodded.  
"Well, it’s my turn to turn in, too," Major Lorne said, shifting himself to his feet and brushing off dust and grass from his behind. Sam looked up at him and smiled.   
"Good night, Major."  
"G’night, Ma’am… Docs," he said with a nod and walked to the spot he’d chosen for his sleeping bag and personal belongings. He’d shed his weapon and vest and other not immediately essential items and had left them there within quick reach if needed. He lay down atop the bag and stared at the night sky before finally drifting into sleep.


	25. Chapter 25

<><><><>

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sam looked up at the same night sky to see all the stars glittering like diamonds above them. "Beautiful, isn’t it?" she stated and the two doctors looked up with her.  
"Aye," Carson agreed as he turned his eyes skyward.  
"Sure," Maddie concurred and Sam smiled, knowing she wasn’t finished. "A nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to crash here." Both Carter and Beckett grinned at her comment and then Carson shifted to his knees to stand up.   
"Well, it’s my turn, lasses. One more check on our patients and I’m done for the night… well, I’m done for about two hours ---"  
"Before we check on them again," Madison finished for him with a wry grin.  
"Aye," he grinned back. "Sleep well," he offered and left the women to finish the night.  
They watched him enter the tent and their gazes lingered there until Sam spoke. "It’s nice to have them back," she said, looking at Madison who nodded and then turned toward her.  
"Yes, it is. I can’t believe he left the safety of the Daedalus to come down here and surprise me. I need to slap him upside the head," she said and Sam smiled at her. "But that will have to wait until I get him under a scanner… or have his head examined by professionals." Sam chuckled at Madison’s odd sense of humor. Then Maddie looked at her and tilted her head to the side a bit. "What about you?" she asked and Sam raised her eyebrows in query. "Glad to have your Second back, I imagine."  
"Yes, of course," Sam answered, "but John’s more than just my Second-in-Command. He’s a good friend."  
"Of course," Maddie agreed. "I can’t even begin to imagine what the two of them went through down in that hole for four days." She thought about that statement and then scowled a bit at herself before adding, "Hell, I can’t imagine what it’s like being in an airplane crash, much less a spaceship hurtling to the ground at ungodly speeds. I keep trying to not think about it, but the damage to the trees and the ground that the Jumper left behind ---"  
"Maddie, don’t do that to yourself. It doesn’t help them to try to imagine what they…" Sam stopped herself, realizing she’d done the same for most of these four days too. "It doesn’t help them."  
"Sorry," Madison told her, "it’s part of why I became a doctor, I suppose. Being able to relate to other people’s traumas, putting myself in their shoes and trying to imagine…"  
"I understand that," Sam told her. "I’ll admit I’ve done it myself too. Maybe it’s because I have been in those situations before…" she paused and thought for a moment. "You really can’t imagine it, unless you’ve been through it," Sam told her.  
There were just too many nuances and variables to such a situation for anyone to be able to say they know how it feels, unless they did actually know how it felt. Samantha Carter could certainly attest to how it felt to be at the controls of a ship out of control and running aground; she knew how it felt to be lost and trapped in a cave with a partner who was injured as hope was slowly lost. She knew how it felt… for her. But even so, all of her experiences were separate instances. She did not crash in a space ship on an alien planet nor had to spend nearly a week in a subterranean cave with an injured companion who didn’t like you anymore than you liked him. Her experience was of being stranded on an ice planet with an injured Jack O’Neill; someone she not only trusted, but cared about a lot. She didn’t ever have to deal with all of those circumstances together while still trying to hold onto hope as days and days went by and then, on top of all of that, having to deal with a large predator who tried to have her for lunch.  
For Steven though, he knew, and she knew he was thankful he hadn’t actually been injured by the cat-like creature and that, according to his report, was mostly thanks to Sheppard’s sudden return to their camp. She had to imagine that, for him, being injured and otherwise helpless to defend himself; the attempt on his life had to be, in itself, a traumatic and desperate event to face. As for Sheppard, the focused attack on him, and having fallen prey to the large predator and nearly dragged away into the bowels of the underground caves in its powerful jaws… it was an event she simply prayed he wouldn’t have to remember too clearly when he got back on his feet.  
For Sam, the very thought of being eaten alive by a predator was the thing of nightmares. Having been in the jaws of one was an experience she absolutely could not relate to - and didn’t know if she really wanted to try. She knew John Sheppard though and she knew that he would shrug it all off in the end, for his friends’ sakes. Sam shook her head, lost in her thoughts.  
"You okay, Colonel?" Maddie asked. She’d been watching Sam the whole time as her thoughts took her for a joy ride that didn’t appear to be that joyful. She addressed Carter by rank to keep her focused on the mission at hand. Sam looked at Dr. Garman and gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She nodded and took a deep breath.   
"Yeah, I’m fine, Doctor. I think I’m just tired."  
"Yeah, I think it’s time for everyone to get some good rest. See you in the morning, Sam." Maddie stood up and waited for Carter to do the same.  
"Sleep tight," Sam said, laying her hand on Madison’s arm. "Don’t let the bedbugs…" she paused and shot a grin at Garman. "Never mind…"  
"Right," Maddie agreed with a smirk and headed for her sleeping bag that waited just outside the tent on the opposite side of Carson’s. Both doctors had insisted on being close by just in case they were needed. As Maddie approached the tent Carson exited and gave her a nod.  
"They’re both resting for now. Time for you to get some too," he said.  
"That’s where I’m heading right now," she told him. "Good night, Carson."  
"G’night, Madison," he replied and the two went their separate ways to catch up on some needed sleep.

# # #

Throughout the night Colonel Caldwell awakened to find John struggling in his own fitful sleep. There was enough space between the two hammocks for Carson or Maddie to slip between them as they tended to their patients, but the space was narrow enough to allow Steven to reach over and offer comfort to the man who’d saved his life.  
Several times during the night, John’s delirium, soft moans and constant trembling had roused Dr. Beckett too, as the man was asleep only a few feet away on the other side of the canvas. Once, while Carson was tending to him, Colonel Caldwell had requested a canteen and a cloth so he could try to relieve some of Sheppard’s discomfort since he’d be the first to awaken anyway. Steven figured that if he could assist during the nighttime hours and let the doctors sleep as much as possible, then they would be rested enough to take over during the actual journey in the daytime hours while he could sleep in transit.  
At one point, he was dozing lightly when the sound of the canvas being pulled back caught his attention. He’d turned his head to see Madison ducking under the flap to come inside. She saw him looking at her and smiled. She’d stayed for a little while to visit with him, talking softly so as not to wake anyone outside. Then she’d checked on Sheppard and gave Steven half a tab of pain medication to help him sleep before she returned to her sleeping bag.  
John’s incoherent mutterings or gasping breaths were enough to pull Steven from his own dreams. This time it was the soft panting as John shifted in his sleep. Steven opened his eyes and watched his companion for a moment then lifted his head to get a better view. It was obvious to him that Sheppard was probably having a bad dream. Probably fever-induced, or trauma-induced, he wasn’t sure. Could’ve been a little of both, or neither and it didn’t really matter. Steven pulled himself up onto his elbow again, twisting slightly onto his side to reach out and grip John’s arm.  
"Sheppard…?" He waited for a response and got nothing. He gripped John’s arm a little harder and tried to shake him. "Sheppard... John? Come on. Wake up."   
There was still no response.   
A sound came from John’s throat that made Steven pause. He wasn’t sure if it was a sound of pain or fear, but it made him stare at the Lieutenant Colonel with a severe scowl. "John?" he said again and reached up to lay his hand on Sheppard’s face. "Geez…" he pulled his hand away and looked up at the IV bags to see they were both still half full.   
The attempts they’d made to lower John’s raging fever were not working and Steven looked at the younger man’s blazing red face. It was obvious that the hour or so that Carson had spent bathing Sheppard with cool water in an attempt to lower his temperature had not worked as well as they’d hoped. It had, however, bought them some time and that served to allow them all to rest peacefully for a bit. Since Dr. Beckett had left him the canteen and cloth he’d asked for, Steven twisted the cap on the canteen and poured a good amount of cool water onto the wash cloth. He propped the open container between himself and the rail he now leaned over.  
Starting at John’s forehead, Colonel Caldwell swiped the cool, wet cloth across his face, down his cheeks and across his eyelids. He took care to push the cloth under Sheppard’s chin where heat would be captured against his throat. He poured a bit more onto the cloth, and squeezed it lightly over John’s chest to let the cool water trickle over the heated flesh. As the water tracked down John’s torso, Steven quickly ran the cloth across his chest and ribs, feeling extremely awkward in the process and his gaze shot to Sheppard’s face to be sure the other man wasn’t aware of his actions. It was hard enough for Steven to feel comfortable just tending to another so intimately, he was sure he’d be mortified to know that person was aware of him doing it.  
He continued to repeat the actions exactly for a few more minutes before the awkward angle and the reach forced him to lie back again. He capped the canteen and stuffed it down amongst the cushions to keep it handy, tucking the dampened cloth alongside it. Steven lay atop the travois in the wee hours of the morning, staring up at the canvas ceiling above his head and listening to the first creatures stirring around them as dawn approached.

# # #

Ronon woke to the sounds of the birds singing to the morning sun. It was natural for him to be wide awake at all hours of the night and this was no different. He’d slept earlier, in the first few hours after turning in. From then, he simply rested and dozed on and off, never really falling into a deep dream-filled sleep. Now he pushed himself from the ground and stood up to scan the camp area. Rodney was still asleep a few feet away, lying on his belly, mouth open in exhausted slumber. Ronon wondered if McKay had swallowed any wandering nocturnal insects sleeping like that. He grunted with that thought and donned his gun belt as he turned away from Rodney and walked toward the banked down fire.  
He tossed some tinder on the warm ashes and topped the mossy substance with some kindling and small branches. Teyla approached him, looking freshly wakened, her eyes a bit droopy and swollen with sleepiness, but she smiled at him as he looked up and handed him her lighter. Ronon used the Athosian implement to set the tinder ablaze and handed it back to her. Teyla sat down beside him and the two began to put together a breakfast for the troupe. The sounds of the crackling fire and the smell of wood smoke stirred Lorne and Rodney. Sam was sitting up atop her sleeping bag as she slowly allowed herself to wake up. Ioann returned from the tree line with a cloth sack filled with freshly harvested fruits. It took a bit a few more minutes for the entire team to stir awake, roused by the sounds of a new day beginning.

# # #

Colonel Caldwell was awakened again by a soft voice beside him. Steven opened his eyes wearily, having dozed less than an hour. He focused on the white tarp constructed over his head when a raspy voice mumbled beside him, drawing his attention. He turned his head to look at Sheppard as his sleepy brain tried to assess the situation. John mumbled something in response to a fevered dream and Steven shifted himself into a better position to try to reach out to him.   
"It's okay, Sheppard," he assured. His hand came down on John's arm just as his body tensed. "Easy, John," Steven tried to comfort him and shot a glance toward the closed tent flap. He could hear the others beginning to move around outside as Sheppard began gasping for air. His entire body was drenched with sweat and his respirations were labored as if his airway or lungs were compromised. "Sheppard…?" Steven tried to lever himself up. "Hello? We need help in here!" he called out to the people outside the tent.

# # #

While the team milled about, greeting each other and allowing themselves time to fully awaken; Ronon put a pot of water over the fire as he began preparing to make the morning coffee. As the others talked softly and situated themselves around the fire, Ronon's head came up as his attention was brought to focus on the tent.  
"Did you hear something?" he asked to no one in particular. Teyla and Rodney looked up at him.  
"What did you hear?" McKay asked, following Ronon's gaze to the tent.  
"I thought I heard someone call out."  
"Well, Carson's heading that way to check on them," Rodney pointed out as he watched Dr. Beckett moving toward the tent and then disappearing inside.

# # #

"Doctor, thank God," Caldwell remarked as Beckett appeared.  
"Morning, Colonel," Carson greeted him. "How are my patients doing?"  
"I don't think he's doing really well," Steven told him even as Carson noted Sheppard's restless behavior and frowned.  
"Damn," he commented. "He's still got a very high fever," Beckett said, laying his hand on John's forehead. "And I don't like the way he's breathing."  
"That makes two of us," Steven replied. "I think that cool bath is in order?" he suggested and Carson nodded.  
"Aye, I'll get some help to move him." Carson moved toward the front of the tent, but halted and turned when Caldwell called out as a commotion sprang up behind him.  
"Doc!" Caldwell shouted.  
Sheppard was caught in the throes of another fevered convulsion and Steven was helplessly trying to hold him down. Carson took a step to go back to help, but spun around quickly, throwing open the tent flap.  
"We need help in here!" he shouted out to alert the others.  
At Dr. Beckett's call for help, all activity around the morning meal ceased and Ronon launched himself from the rock he'd been sitting on. He ran to the tent with Lorne, Teyla and Sam right behind him. McKay caught up to them just as Ronon ducked inside. He quickly glanced from Caldwell to Sheppard to Beckett. His gaze was drawn back to his team leader as he realized the other two were desperately trying to keep him from flipping himself onto the floor.   
"What the hell?" Ronon growled.   
"Convulsions!" Beckett informed him and the worried expression in his eyes when his gaze met Ronon's scared the hell out of the Satedan.  
"What do we do?" he demanded.  
"We need to get his fever down and fast. His core temperature is spiking dangerously. Basically, his brain is boiling in his skull. We need to immerse him in cool water," Carson told him and Ronon stepped up beside the makeshift bed. "The river," Beckett told him, holding his gaze for a moment.   
Ronon understood and gave a quick nod. Tossing back the covers he grabbed John's wrist and pulled him up into a sitting position as the seizures waned.   
"Wait!" Carson yelled and carefully pulled the I.V. from the imbedded needle and taped the port to John's arm before Dex could whisk him away.  
Witnessing John's seizure unnerved Ronon and sent the big man into action. He wrapped his arms around his friend’s torso and dragged him from the bed. Carson had to move quickly to keep up as he lifted the splinted leg. Ronon never paused, nearly steamrolling over the team members peering in from outside. They quickly jumped back to make room as he exited the tent and hitched Sheppard's weight up against his chest for a better grip. Teyla looked to him as if to ask where he was taking John.  
"The river!" he growled at her.  
As Ronon moved away from the tent, Dr. Beckett appeared and turned to Ioann, asking him to remain with Colonel Caldwell in camp while he went to the river to take care of Colonel Sheppard’s needs. Ioann nodded briskly.  
Ronon didn't waste valuable time; he ran across the clearing and made his way down the trail that descended the slope leading to the river below. Teyla and Rodney were only steps behind him with Dr. Beckett and Major Lorne in their shadows.  
Halfway down the slope the soft soil gave way under his pounding feet and Ronon rode the small dirt avalanche with the balanced skill of a warrior, even while holding firmly onto Sheppard. When he reached the shore below, he didn't pause. He simply ran toward the river and plunged into it, walking them out toward the deeper section.  
"Be careful, Ronon!" Beckett called out to him. "Not too fast! You'll shock his system into cardiac arrest!"  
Ronon looked back at him and gave a nod. He slowed his pace as the water rose to their thighs. The clear water churned red as the current drew the blood from the bandaged wound on John’s thigh. He was careful of the injured leg as he dragged Sheppard’s inert form into the deeper water.  
In his arms, John stirred a bit and mumbled. The sudden freezing sensation of the cool water against his overheated skin stole his breath away and it felt like shards of glass imbedding into his skin. He gasped for air and tried to resist his captor. Even Ronon had to catch his breath as his own body warmth was stolen by the cool river flow. He noted the bloodied water churning around him, but relaxed when it cleared again a moment later. He hoped the cold water would aid in slowing the bleed and help to close the wound.  
"No......" John muttered softly even as Ronon came to a stop and just stood with him in the thigh high water. "Don't... no... please… don't."  
"I have to," Ronon told him. "Your fever is too high," he tried to tell John, but he was already struggling to keep hold of him as Sheppard began to flail and kick, trying to get away.  
"Nooooooo! Stop! You're killing me!" John shouted, not understanding his friend was trying to help. All he knew for certain was that it hurt and it hurt really bad.  
"I'm sorry," Ronon said and held onto him tightly as he lowered himself into the water, submerging himself under Sheppard’s weight.


	26. Chapter 26

<><><><>

Chapter Twenty-Six

Sheppard screamed, as what felt to be brutally ice-cold water enveloped him, producing the sensation of daggers being thrust into his entire body. He flailed and shouted and screamed as Ronon tried to hold on to him. At one point, he was thrown off balance and his feet slipped on the rock he was standing on as John's violent struggle for freedom nearly put them both under. McKay and Teyla jumped in to help, but Ronon surfaced again on his own with one hand holding John's chin up out of the water.  
"Help me," Ronon said as McKay came up beside him. Rodney watched the scene in shock for a few seconds before he got his wits about him. He reached out and took John's face in his hands, helping Ronon to keep his head above the water and to try to get his attention as well.  
"Sheppard!" he called out. "Sheppard! John! John!" John's eyes flashed open and, seeing McKay in front of him, reached out and grabbed onto Rodney's shirt with two frantic hands. He nearly pulled Rodney down on top of them as he pleaded with him to help free him. "I can't. We're trying to help you."  
"He doesn't understand," Ronon told him. Sheppard snarled at McKay and, with a sudden burst of energy, survival adrenaline, shoved Rodney away and twisted around in Ronon's arms. John fought; pushing, punching and trying to kick his way free, twisting and trying to wrest himself out of the crushing embrace that he felt was threatening to kill him.   
"No! Stop!" Ronon yelled, holding on. "It's okay! It's okay!" The two men thrashed in the water as John tried frantically to get out of Ronon's clutches and Ronon fought against his efforts and that of the rushing water that threatened to push them down river.  
"Hold on, Ronon!" Beckett shouted as he slowly made his way toward them; Teyla helping to balance him as they moved into the deeper water.  
John pushed against Ronon, thrashing violently and twisting around in his arms until they were face to face. Ronon fought to keep them above water as he slipped on the slick rocks beneath his feet. The water churned and became angry as the two men fought – one to let go, the other to hold on.   
John spun around against Ronon as his friend released him with one arm to try to keep them from going under. He tried to use the new position to lever himself up and away from Ronon's chest in order to slip free, but the Satedan had an iron grip.  
"Let me go," John demanded, but his fight was weakening.  
"Never," Ronon told him quietly and hugged him tighter and then John suddenly relaxed in his arms and lay heavily against his chest; as quickly as the fight had surged inside him, it left him just as quickly. Ronon panted for air as he tried to assess whether John was alive or not. Carson had warned him about shocking his heart. Had that happened?  
"McKay?" Ronon asked, as Rodney put his hand on the back of John's head and looked at him up close. John looked drawn and haggard as he lay buoyed in the water against Ronon’s chest. Rodney swept his hand slowly against John’s head, brushing his hair back away from his face then he laid his hand against John’s bare back, assessing the rise and fall of his breaths.  
"He's breathing," Rodney told him looking up. "I think he just passed out."  
"Good," Ronon remarked, sounding relieved as he renewed his hold on the now unconscious man. He shifted John’s weight as the struggle and the cold water began taking its toll on him, but he stayed where he was as Carson came over to check his patient.  
Seconds passed as Beckett checked John's pulse and laid his hands on Sheppard's back and then his cheek. Even immersed in the cool river he could feel the internal heat keeping his skin warm to the touch. Then he lifted John's hand out of the water, pressing it between his own.  
"His extremities are already chilled, but his core temperature is still high. We'll keep him here for a few more minutes," Carson informed the group. Ronon nodded. He could still feel intense heat emanating from the top of John's head against his cheek. The cold water was definitely shocking in the morning air and Ronon took a deep breath, realizing what John must've experienced as his super-heated body was suddenly submerged in it. Ronon fought not to let his teeth chatter as his own body temperature was now dropping significantly in the steadily moving current.  
“The top of his head feels like fire,” Ronon commented and Carson laid his hand on the crown of John’s head and nodded.  
“Here, let’s put him on his back,” he advised and Ronon followed Beckett’s lead, assisting him in re-positioning Sheppard. Carson kept a hold of John’s head as Ronon turned him over and loosened his grip on him. As they floated John on his back, Ronon spotted him with his hand under his back while Dr. Beckett guided his patient’s head backward, tipping it slightly so the cool water could whisk away the intense heat. Ronon watched him closely and Teyla stepped up beside John’s floating legs to watch as well. Carson looked up and noted their focus.   
“Most of a person’s body heat is released through the top of their head,” he explained. “That’s why, even though the rest of his body is cooling rapidly, his face and head are still quite hot. Heat rises,” he said and Teyla nodded that she understood that while Ronon simply listened. “That includes body heat. We’ll keep him here for a few minutes and then get him dried off and bundled up so he doesn’t end up going to the opposite extreme.”  
Ronon’s thoughts drifted but his support never wavered as the minutes passed. Teyla stood close, her hands resting lightly on John’s floating legs and McKay came up beside her to wait with them in what seemed to be the longest minutes of his life.  
"Okay, I think that's long enough," Beckett told them and Ronon lifted John’s head and shoulders above the surface and drew him closer to the shore where Sam and Madison waited with Major Lorne. "Let's get them out of here,” Carson suggested and Lorne nodded, “before Ronon gets hypothermia, as well."  
Major Lorne made his way out to assist. He stopped in knee deep water and waited for the team to bring Sheppard toward him then he took John’s legs and helped to carry him back up to the clearing.

# # #

Sheppard was unconscious as they carried him back to the clearing. Lorne had his legs and Ronon held him around the chest, allowing John’s head to rest against him as they moved up the hill.   
"He feels a lot cooler now," Lorne stated as he and Ronon crossed the level ground, heading toward the tent. Ioann was standing at the entrance as the team returned; having kept a close watch on Caldwell as he’d promised Dr. Beckett he would. He pulled back the tent flap as the men approached and stood back, allowing them entry.   
Caldwell had heard them coming and sat up in anticipation. He watched Lorne and Ronon enter and lay Sheppard down on the travois beside him. He was soaked through and clearly unconscious.   
"How is he?" Steven asked.  
"He's doing fine," Carson told him. "We submerged him in the river... I think that might’ve done the trick. He's much cooler; at least for now."  
Lorne and Teyla exited the small space to allow Dr. Garman to enter. Ronon refused to budge though and remained at John’s side as Carson began wiping him down with a dry towel.  
“Here ya’ go, Big Man,” he said, getting Ronon’s attention. Ronon looked up at him and took the towel he was offered. “Why don’t you dry his head and shoulders and Dr. Garman can help me get these wet clothes off.”  
Madison tossed a reassuring smile to Steven as she rolled down John’s socks and pulled them off. Carson picked up his clothing shears and cut the remaining pants material down the outer seam of the injured leg and up through the waist band then handed the shears to Madison who did the same on the other side. Once that was done, they simply lifted the front half of the material away and carefully rolled John onto his side to pull the remainder from beneath him.  
They rolled him back to rest against the warm furs and cloth lining the travois and Maddie and Ronon focused on drying him as thoroughly as possible while Dr. Beckett turned his attention to the soaked splint and bandages. He changed them for warm dry sterile dressings and secured it all with fresh clean bandages then, with Maddie’s assistance, replaced the splint.   
After drying John as completely as they could, they draped warm blankets over him to keep him from catching a chill. His body temperature could easily drop too low at this point so he was going to need help to maintain the body temperature that only a moment ago was running rampant. Ronon concentrated on John’s face, throat and chest as the two doctors did what they had to do then he scrubbed it lightly against his hair, squeezing the remaining cold water from the wild mat.  
When Carson was satisfied that Sheppard was sufficiently dry and securely covered he re-attached the I.V. tubes to the ports and checked the drip before leaving him to rest under Ronon’s close supervision. He then draped a warm blanket over Ronon’s shoulders. “Don’t forget to dry yourself off too,” he mentioned.  
Ronon gave him a small grin and replied, “I think the heat of the day will do that for me.”   
Carson smiled as he couldn’t argue with that. It wouldn’t be long before they were all sweating again in the jungle heat. As the two men spoke, Madison moved to Steven’s side and checked his leg for her own assurance.  
“I’ll give you something for the pain after you’ve eaten something,” she told him. “I’ll be right back with some breakfast.” She squeezed his hand and ducked out of the tent. Carson moved away from Sheppard’s side and turned to regard Colonel Caldwell.   
“And how are you feeling today, Colonel?” he asked.  
“I’m fine, Doctor. Thank you,” Steven replied and then nodded toward his roommate. “How’s he really doing, Doc?”  
“Oh, I think he’ll be doing much better when he wakes up. Having that river nearby was a godsend. We’ll still keep a close eye on him, of course, until we get him back. We have no idea what actually caused the fever and it could return at any time, but I think for now we’ve got it under control.”  
Caldwell nodded somberly as he looked at Sheppard lying beside him. Ronon was still sitting by his team leader’s side, one hand holding the towel and the other stroking John’s hair in a gentle, comforting manner. Steven nodded in acknowledgment to Beckett as he watched the Satedan reassuring his friend with whispered words so quiet that he couldn’t hear them from only a few feet away. Carson gave Caldwell’s good leg a light pat and exited the tent.  
A few moments later, Madison entered with Steven’s breakfast. She sat beside him and spent some personal time with him as they ate their morning meal together.  
“What time are we heading out?” he asked her and Madison grinned at him.  
“I’m not sure. We had originally planned on moving as soon as breakfast was done and we could break camp, but I think we’re going to hold off on the rush to see how he does for the next while.” She gestured toward Sheppard with her fork and then scooped up another bit of stew for Steven and offered it to him. Caldwell grinned at her.  
“I can feed myself, you know? I’m not incapacitated,” he reminded her with a gleam in his eyes. Madison smiled coyly at him as she filled the fork again and held it out toward him.  
“I know,” she said. “But how often do I really get to spoil you, huh?” she asked and waited for him to open his mouth. Steven just shook his head at her, still grinning and Madison pushed the food to his lips, forcing him to either eat it or wear it - he opted for eating it as she deposited it in his mouth. She took his hand in hers as she waited for him to chew it up. They settled down, in deference to the men sharing the space with them, and finished the meal with quiet conversation.   
The sounds of the others moving around outside and having their own conversations added a sense of togetherness that was comforting to Maddie. She wondered silently if the men felt that same sense of comfort or if they even noticed such things. Of course, the two men sitting beside her were hardly the ones she’d choose to ask about such matters.  
However, watching Ronon Dex tending to Colonel Sheppard, Maddie knew that yes, even he understood that need. He was a warrior who understood the importance of such a bond; that sense of trust, the sense of family. She was sure he understood too, what a treasured gift it was to be given this moment.


	27. Chapter 27

<><><><>

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Ronon stayed close to John’s side, watching over him, as the others finished the morning meal and packed up their bedrolls and other supplies. Steven rested beside them shooting a glance in his direction now and again as Ronon monitored Sheppard’s condition.  
The flap of the tent was pulled open and both men looked up to see Teyla enter. She offered a friendly smile to Colonel Caldwell receiving one in return. Slipping her small frame between the two travois, she placed her hand over Ronon’s as he slowly swept a damp cloth across Sheppard’s forehead. He paused and raised his eyes, meeting her gaze.  
“How is he?” she asked, already noting John’s color was better and his breathing had relaxed considerably.   
“Seems to be doing better,” Ronon answered and offered her the cloth. Teyla took it from him with a soft smile and opened a canteen to refresh it with cool water.   
“He does look much better,” she agreed.   
Ronon watched as Teyla took over his task. She appeared much more comfortable in the actions than either Ronon or Steven had felt. Teyla wiped the cloth over John’s face and neck then across his exposed shoulders and chest. She repeated the routine a second time then placed her palm on his forehead. Touching his cheek with the back of her hand, Teyla smiled reassuringly. “He feels much cooler now. You did a great job, Ronon.”  
“Thanks,” he replied.  
Sam poked her head through the tent flap and all three looked up at her. “We’ll be ready to pull the tent down in about five minutes,” she informed them.  
“Very well… we are ready,” Teyla told her with a nod.  
It’d be much easier to pull up the tent stakes and repack the structure without disturbing the injured men more than necessary. Steven supervised from inside the tent along with Teyla as the others stripped the canvas from the poles and pulled it clear. 

# # #

Half an hour later saw John and Steven secured in their sleds to the two renquins that would be pulling them and the group began the next leg of the return trip through the mountain jungle. Now that they were pulling two injured men over the rough terrain, their travel was even slower than it had been on the way up as they eased along the narrow rocky path.   
It took nearly half the day to reach the point where the path led out to the section of the mountain ledge that had broken away during Colonel Carter’s rescue two days before. Those on point called a halt to the troupe and Ioann suggested they find an alternate way around. The renquins would have a difficult enough time scrambling over the missing piece of the ledge; it’d be nearly impossible with the two travois in tow. As Ioann and Lorne left to find another route, Carson and Madison focused on their patients who were doing very well, all things considered.   
It wasn’t long before the two scouts returned with good news. A minor detour brought them back out onto the path about a mile beyond the ruined section. Sam took a deep breath and let it out, relieved to have been able to bypass the dangerous area and to see the familiar trail that would lead the group down the mountain toward Yrsa. It was another hour after they’d reached the trail that Dr. Garman called a halt. Colonel Caldwell was showing signs that his pain medication was wearing off and the bumps and jolts were becoming agonizing for him as his broken leg and cracked ribs were jarred with every stone the travois slid over.   
"Sam!" she called up the line. "We need to stop for a few minutes. It’s time for Steven’s medication and they need to rest." She’d already brought her renquin to a stop and had dismounted and was striding over to Caldwell with her medical bag. Carson dismounted and headed toward John’s travois. Kneeling beside him, he checked the dressings around the wound site. It had begun to bleed again and the bandages were soaked through so he prepared fresh supplies and removed the soiled covering. The skin was red and swollen and full of fire at the site.   
“Infection setting in,” Carson stated as Teyla stood close by ready to assist.   
“But I thought you had given him an anti-biotic to fight infection...?” she asked.  
“I did,” he assured her. “But even modern medicine doesn’t always work the way we hope it will. This needs to be thoroughly cleaned and I can’t do that here. He needs to be in a sterile operating room.” Sam had joined them and Carson looked up at her. "I need to change the packing, but it's going to take time. I need to at least try to make the area around him sterile first. Then I'm going to clean it, and depending on how it looks, I may have to debried it again here." This was the very last thing he’d ever wanted to do in the field once; he didn’t relish having to do it a second time. "He needs a fresh I.V. too.”   
Madison had tended to Steven and then excused herself to join the others for the impromptu meeting. “Steven could use a short period of rest. At least time enough to let his pain meds kick in… about twenty minutes.”  
Carter considered both doctors’ requests and then looked to Carson. "How long do you estimate we’ll have between stops? Considering their conditions… how often?”  
“Well, Steven’s next dose will be needed in four hours,” Madison tossed in for consideration.   
"The wound is bleeding freely again,” Carson told them. “Two hours tops for Colonel Sheppard. If we want to keep his fever down I need to be sure he gets continuous intravenous and keep him packed in ice as needed."   
“And then Steven two hours after that for his medication,” Sam added.  
“By then we’d be stopping again anyway so I can check John again,” Carson told her. “If the travel keeps causing pain and fever to spike….”  
“We’re going to hit a point where we have to cap them off for the day,” Madison interjected and Carson nodded.  
“Then they’ll both be in big trouble,” he added.  
Sam blew out a breath. "At that rate it's going to take us twice as long to get them back.”  
“At least,” Ronon agreed.  
“Okay, Doctors, do what you need to do," Sam said and as they went to work she strode back toward the head of the line. "Major Lorne, we've got a bit of a problem..." Sam quickly explained to him what the doctors had told her regarding John and Caldwell’s conditions.   
Evan glanced at the line of renquins and then the two injured men letting his eyes rest on Sheppard for several beats but it only took him a second to make his decision.   
"I’ve got an idea,” he said. “Help me strip my renquin and one of the pack animals of all but the essential gear. We'll distribute its load among all the others. They'll only have to handle the extra weight until you reach the next meadow." As he spoke, Lorne was unloading his animal, stripping off the heavy saddlebags. Glancing at Sam he continued, "I'll ride back to Yrsa to pick up Jumper Two and a couple of herdsmen to help Ioann bring the renquins off the mountain. I'll meet you as soon as I can in the meadow where we camped the first night. A day away, maybe less if we can make good time."   
She listened to his plan as she helped him offload the supplies from the pack animal. Was it really safe to fly the Jumper into the mountain? Her eyes lifted to the canopy tops, watching as the trees swayed. The winds had abated, but for how long? Her gaze was drawn to the two injured men. She weighed the risks against the benefits and turned to him with a nod.  
"Okay," she agreed and strode to the end of the line to begin stripping down one of the renquins there. “Ronon?” she called to him and he walked over to her. “Major Lorne is going to ride back to Yrsa for the Jumper," she explained. "He'll have to ride hard and fast and as light as possible. If you can help us repack some of these supplies...” she requested and Ronon reached up to haul a full pack load off the animal’s back. “He'll pick the rest of us up in the meadow about a day ahead of us."   
"Maybe I should ride with him,” Ronon suggested as he pushed the pack onto the back of another animal. “I’m not sure any of us should be moving around this place all alone. Too much could happen… as we’ve already seen," he reminded her then paused as he secured the straps. He turned his head to face her then his gaze moved to his still unconscious friend on the sled. Ronon’s loyalties were split in his desire to protect his friends and stay with Sheppard now that they’d found him, or go with Lorne to watch his back, knowing and trusting the others to be able to care for John now. "I think someone should go with him. I'm ready."   
Sam's hands stopped moving and she returned his gaze as she considered the suggestion. She dropped the gear from the pack animal and moved to pick up the reins of her mount. “Take mine and I’ll assume yours," she told him, since his renquin was attached to the travois.   
"Ioann and Rodney, start distributing this gear to the other animals. Doctors, get your patients ready to move,” she advised. “Once we get moving, our plan is to ride straight through to the next meadow as best we can. Stopping for rest and breaks is acceptable, but we’re not raising camp until we reach the meadow. If we’re very selective with choosing our stops we should just make it there by nightfall. Major Lorne is heading back to Yrsa for the Jumper and will pick us up there tomorrow evening.”  
“If all goes well,” Rodney interjected. “Which it normally doesn’t.”  
“Rodney,” Sam admonished lightly. “We’re keeping positive thoughts here,” she advised with a grin.  
Taking the halter lines of the two renquins, she led them to the front of the line. "Major, Ronon has offered to go with you. You’ll have each others’ backs,” she said with a nod to Ronon as he walked over to join them. "Be careful," she said. "Get there… get back. Don't take any unnecessary risks." Sam knew she didn't have to tell them that, but she did anyway. "We'll see you soon."   
Lorne grabbed the pommel of the saddle and swung onto its back reaching down to take the lead line of one of the former pack animals. He and Ronon would each be leading one of the pack renquins as a spare riding animal since they’d be riding hard and as fast as they could. Though the pace would be hard, unburdened by harnesses and packs, the two spare animals should still be able to serve as mounts for the last part of the trip. Setting heel to the renquin, he felt a brief tug on the line as the backup animal took a moment to realize they were heading out and to settle into the chosen gait. Once it realized what was needed, the line slacked as the other renquin stayed diligently on Skippy's heels.   
Once the pair of riders had made it beyond the rocky section of the trail, Lorne leaned forward and urged his mount into a gallop. The size of the animals allowed them great speed just by virtue of their long strides so it didn’t take much to get them up to break neck speed along the trail. With a 'yah!' and a hard heel, Ronon launched his own mount into action and set his sights on Lorne’s back, to focus on keeping pace with the other rider.   
Ronon had no trouble keeping up with Lorne, his numerous years of running had kept Ronon in peak physical shape and the arduous pounding of the animal's strength beneath him barely fazed the Satedan... until many hours had passed and night began to fall. Only then did Ronon begin to feel the drain of the entire day.

# # #

Throughout the late afternoon the troupe stopped only twice to rest and to tend to the needs of the injured. Sheppard was still unconscious and the pain medications helped to keep Caldwell relaxed too. Madison would look down from above him and smile as the swaying motion of the sled lulled him to sleep. He dozed for twenty minutes at a time every hour or so until the medication wore off and the pain would cause him too much discomfort to rest.  
As the sun began to set they made it to a small clearing and Sam called a halt to their journey once more. Tomorrow’s traveling would bring them to the designated meadow and there the group would wait for Lorne and Ronon to arrive with the Jumper.   
Night had fallen fully by the time they’d eaten and the gear had been packed away for the night. The renquins were seen to, stripped of their saddles to cool down, then fed and watered as watch shifts were chosen. Instead of raising the large tent this time, the team had opted to simply nursemaid the two injured men through the night. Those volunteering to watch over them were to simply assess whether they needed more blankets if the night air became too chilly or to wake the doctors if anything more were needed.  
As the first night watch, Rodney chose a spot on the north side of the camp, leaning against a large boulder as he cradled his P-90 and watching the dark forest for predators. Teyla took up her chosen spot next to John and pulled the blanket up a bit higher over his chest as her first act of the night. Rodney looked over at her and she offered him a smile.  
Everyone had turned in except Sam, who was staring into the small fire and letting her mind drift to wherever it chose to take her. Finally, she stood and waved good night to Teyla and Rodney and walked to her sleeping bag. Dropping down on it she closed her eyes and was sound asleep minutes later. 

# # # 

Dr. Garman stirred a couple hours later as Ioann got up to take over the watch from Rodney. She watched the two men switch out and then looked over at Teyla. The Athosian had positioned herself on the edge of Sheppard’s litter and was sound asleep with her hand resting on his arm. Since she was wide awake, she decided to go check on the injured men. Throwing the cover off she stood up and scanned the area to see everyone else was still sound asleep. They were all worn out and exhausted and their sleep was heavy and hopefully healing.  
Madison neared the travois and crouched beside Steven's litter. He appeared to be sleeping deeply and she smiled to see him resting peacefully. She checked his pulses and inspected the cut on his head to see it healing nicely. Once she was satisfied she simply sat beside him, her hand caressing down his arm to take his hand in hers.  
It had been a long day and it would be a long night, but they were surrounded by a peaceful and comforting stillness. She lowered her head, stretching out the muscles in her neck and back. She was tired, nearing exhaustion herself but she’d gotten a few hours of restful sleep to take the edge off. Her worry for Steven had been relieved and although they had recovered both men alive, they still needed careful attention. It didn't stop her from taking a moment to sit with him when she could; there hadn't been much time to do that before now. She held his hand in hers and let out a long breath as if she’d been holding it all day.  
She let her gaze travel over him and grounded herself in the realization that he was going to be okay. She focused on Steven’s sleeping face before her attention was drawn to the man lying on the other side. John was looking back at her, seemingly dazed. She squinted at him as he was backlit by the soft glow of their small campfire; she couldn’t be sure if he was actually watching her, or if in his exhausted, drugged state it was just a natural reflex for his eyes to follow her as she moved. Madison kept an eye on him until his gaze shifted and he looked up at her. She tilted her head a bit and smiled at him. A corner of his mouth pulled back in a weak attempt to give her a small smile.   
Madison openly smiled to see him awake and aware of her presence. She bowed her head for a moment as if in thanks then looked at him again. "Hey," she whispered softly, in deference to the woman sleeping beside him. She left Steven’s side and came around to sit opposite Teyla and laid a gentle hand against his forehead, then his cheek. His fever was down still, which was a relief. "You should be asleep," she told him, even as she pulled back the edge of the blanket to check the dressing on his leg. The bleeding had slowed again and she left it alone, covering him back up against the night’s chill. "How're you feeling? Do you need something for pain?" she asked, combing his hair back with her fingers.  
John's eyes closed and he gave her a small smile. "No... I'm okay. Thanks," he whispered back hoarsely. "Thirsty. Can I have some water?" he asked.   
His voice caused Teyla to stir beside him and only then did he become aware of her. John turned his head to look at her and when Teyla opened her eyes she blinked at him. Realizing he was awake and looking at her she quickly sat up.   
“John?” she said as she slid off the litter to crouch beside him. She noticed Dr. Garman sitting there also. “Madison,” she greeted with a smile. “My goodness. You’re awake,” she commented to John and he gave her a weak smile.   
“Can I have some water?” he asked again and Dr. Garman handed Teyla a canteen.  
“Of course,” she replied and carefully assisted him to take a drink and relieve his parched throat. Once he was settled back down again his eyelids closed on their own. The brief interaction had been enough to exhaust whatever bit of energy he’d had. As Teyla put the canteen away, John’s hand moved to cover hers where it lay on the rail of his stretcher. Teyla paused a moment and looked down before looking up at Maddie. The doctor smiled in understanding and returned to her spot beside Steven. John was sound asleep long before Maddie finally moved from that spot to catch a nap before the sun rose, but Teyla remained by John’s side until relieved by Carson after dawn.


	28. Chapter 28

<><><><>

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It had taken them the rest of the first day and the whole of the night before they’d reached the landing field at Yrsa at approximately 0900 hrs the following morning. Through the night, Lorne and Ronon had depended entirely on the renquin's night sight and senses. By the time they reached the plain where the Puddle Jumper was waiting, both men were reeling in their saddles. An attendant had met them at the edge of the landing field and, once the nature of the emergency had been explained, had rounded up a couple of young men willing to guide the renquins back with Ioann.   
The two young men began grabbing the gear from the packs atop the renquins while Lorne and Ronon rested. They loaded the gear into the Jumper and returned to the exhausted men carrying bowls of hot meat pies, which Lorne and Ronon gratefully consumed along with jugs of cold water.   
The delay had given the exhausted Jumper pilot time to close his eyes and regain focus for the flight to come. Gryn and Braden, the two young herdsmen, had brought word that the Great Winds had abated. These lulls didn't happen often but usually lasted two or three days before resuming. It seemed luck was going to favor him as a pilot, unsure that he was skilled enough to do what had to be done.   
During the whole ride, the entire unrelenting distance, Ronon had stayed at his back. He'd spoken rarely, only now and again to encourage Lorne to keep going as weariness began to set in. He had no words to express how grateful he was for Ronon's encouragement and strength during the arduous trek back to Yrsa.   
"You can do this," Ronon told him with quiet confidence after settling in the right hand seat.   
Taking a deep breath, Evan cleared his mind and set his hands on the controls. Jumper Two hummed to life and then they were airborne and en route toward the mountains with the two herdsmen on board. The air currents were still unstable a few hundred feet off the ground so he tried to keep the ship as low as possible as he steered it up the mountainside. It was sheer will as much as skill that took the Jumper up to the meadow where they'd agreed to meet the rest of the team.

# # #

The Meadow,   
Volga Mountain Range

Circling the meadow once, Lorne spotted a level area a short distance from the campsite and set the Jumper down gently. "We're here," he reported, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. Leaning forward over the controls he sighed in relief, feeling his muscles trembling slightly as exhaustion crept in on him. Ronon stood up and slapped him on the back with a smile as he passed by to exit the craft.  
"Told you you could do it," he said with a grin and opened the rear hatch. Lorne got up and joined him as the hatch lowered into position.  
They marched down the ramp and strode the few yards to the campsite. Seeing the two men lying on their travois still attached to the renquins to keep them off the cold ground through the night, Ronon went straight over to check on Sheppard. His brow furrowed a bit to see how pale John looked.  
"He doesn't look so good," he mentioned to the doctor.   
Carson looked up as he tucked the I.V. bag beside John’s head and curled the edges of the blanket around his head, preparing him to be lifted and moved to the Jumper. “He’s holding his own for now,” Carson assured him. “His temperature is much better since the immersion, but I’m afraid infection is setting in.”  
Ronon nodded and looked at Dr. Garman. "How's he doing?" he asked her, gesturing toward Caldwell. Steven grimaced as if to emphasize the fact then tried to offer a grin to cover. Ronon smirked at the attempt.  
"Oh, he's in a lot of pain," she answered, “but being as stubborn as usual.” She rolled her head around, working the kinks out of her neck. "Sheppard still has an elevated temperature, but it’s not at a dangerous level like it was before. Once we get them back to the ship they both should recover well when we are in a proper medical facility and can take better care of them.” Steven and Carson both smiled at her as she let her impatience show a bit. “I'm really glad to see you both,” she told Ronon as Lorne came up alongside him.   
The moment she heard the sound of the approaching Jumper, Carter had ordered camp to be broken down and Teyla had moved from John’s side to help Ioann and Rodney pack their gear and supplies onto the Jumper as Sam walked over to greet their returning teammates. "Good job you two. You made excellent time,” she said.  
“Yeah,” Lorne answered, “the animals knew the way back down. Even without a full moon to light the way, they didn’t seem to have an issue with traveling in the dark so we just let them go.”  
“You traveled all night?” Sam asked, furrowing her brow.  
“Yeah. Don’t worry, Ma’am, I intend to sleep about fourteen hours when we get back to Daedalus,” he remarked with a grin.  
Sam smiled with a nod. “I think we can make that happen,” she assured him. “Okay, let’s get them onboard and get out of this place.” 

# # # 

Ronon positioned himself at John’s head and gripped the rolled up edges of the blanket at his shoulders while Major Lorne took his feet. Carson supported the splinted lef; guiding them verbally as they lifted Sheppard from the litter and walked carefully across the campsite and through a small stretch of tall grass to reach the ramp.   
Inside the ship, they settled Sheppard onto one of the benches and strapped him to it for what was expected to be a bumpy ride out of Ziya’s atmosphere. Dr. Beckett collected the tucked away I.V. bag and hung it from a hook on the bulkhead wall above John’s head.   
Ronon took a moment to position rolled up blankets around John’s head in case the ride got too wild. He paused and looked down at John’s face as two hazel eyes caught his attention. “Hey, buddy,” Ronon said softly. He finished what he was doing and crouched beside the bench. Sheppard’s eyes followed him as he moved. “How’re you doing?” he asked.  
“Okay,” John told him. Ronon smiled, noting the weak volume and rough grating tone of his voice.   
“It’s good to see you awake,” he told his friend. “You had us really scared for a while.”  
“Did I?” John asked, his eyes closing again.  
“Yeah,” Ronon whispered and brushed his hand over John’s hair. “We’re taking you home,” he told him as the others carried Caldwell inside and settled him on the other bench seat. As Steven was strapped in for safety, the others found a place to sit or stand for the short trip up to the Daedalus while Colonel Carter thanked Ioann and his friends for all their help.   
She marched back inside and passed Ronon who was waiting nearby to palm the hatch lever behind her. As the ramp rose, the two doctors took their seats in the command module behind Major Lorne while Teyla and Rodney took standing positions between the cockpit and the cargo bay. Lorne brought inertial dampeners online and powered up the engines as Sam dropped into the co-pilot’s seat. She looked at him and smiled.  
“Let’s go home,” she said.  
“Yes, Ma’am.”  
The Jumper lifted from the ground, kicking up dust and ground debris as Ioann, Gryn and Braden watched. The cylindrical ship yawed slightly to tip its nose skyward, accelerated toward the upper atmosphere and was out of sight within seconds.


	29. Chapter 29

<><><><>

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Following a few tense moments leaving Ziya’s atmosphere, the flight smoothed out and the crew aboard the Jumper turned their thoughts toward the impending arrival aboard the Daedalus. As much as they wanted sleep and hot showers, overriding all those desires was concern for their injured companions. Colonel Caldwell’s condition, while serious, wasn’t life threatening but Colonel Sheppard’s was critical and they were worried.   
Even before the Jumper settled to the floor of the hangar, Ronon had palmed the hatch controls to lower the ramp for the waiting trauma teams. He and his teammates quickly vacated the rear of the small ship to allow the first team to enter and retrieve Colonel Sheppard. They watched anxiously as the med-techs tried to rouse him, but he was completely unresponsive. The techs lifted him from the bench and maneuvered down the ramp to place him gently onto a gurney. The trauma team hurried out of the hangar with Dr. Beckett trotting alongside barking orders as they headed straight to the ship's operating room.  
The team watched silently as the med techs worked cohesively to transfer Sheppard to the gurney and speed off with him. Lorne turned to the group as Carter came down the ramp. "It's going to be a while before we hear anything. Why don't you all grab showers and some food; we can meet in the mess hall in an hour," he suggested, but nobody moved. Carter looked from the team to Major Lorne and then nodded.  
"He's right. We won't hear anything for a while. They're taking John straight to surgery and Colonel Caldwell will have his leg set in a cast, so we have plenty of time to get ourselves cleaned up and fed. I've been told that the secondary mess hall on level nine has been designated as a waiting area for us. So get showers and we can all meet there in an hour," she told them. The three teammates continued to stand there looking tired and worried. "That was an order," she told them with a gentle tone.   
Rodney shuffled on his feet and made a sound that told Ronon he was about to whine. Ronon instead draped a large arm around McKay's shoulders and steered him toward the door. "C'mon, let's go. The sooner we clean up, the sooner we get back," he suggested and gestured for Teyla to follow. She gave Sam and Lorne a solemn nod and then followed her teammates out of the hangar.  
Dr. Garman and the second team assisted Colonel Caldwell from the ship’s other bench onto a waiting stretcher and moved out of the hangar at a calmer pace to the infirmary. Her immediate plan was to scan his leg and get proper pictures of it to see the extent of the injuries to the bones and tissues. Once she had seen the scans, Madison ordered Steven’s leg re-set and stabilized with a proper cast. Satisfied the team would carry out her orders, she hastened to the ship’s operating theater where Dr. Beckett was already working on Colonel Sheppard’s injury.   
After a thorough scrubbing and donning surgical garb, she entered the theater to find Carson was well into cleaning and treating John’s wound; cutting away the dead flesh he dug deep into soft tissue searching out the infected areas. She stepped up to the steel table and looked at Sheppard's face for a moment. His expression was relaxed and she thought he would've actually looked peaceful if it weren't for the ghostly pallor of his skin and the endotrachael tube taped to his mouth.   
When inserted carefully into the windpipe, the large diameter tube helped deliver proper levels of anesthesia to the patient along with the correct mixture of respiratory gases to assist his breathing while his system was suppressed by the drugs. She noted the respiratory machine was working rhythmically to deliver breaths to the unconscious man and taking a deep breath, Madison picked up a lighted scope to assist Dr. Beckett. The anesthesiologist looked up from her monitors now and again to watch the two surgeons working in unison completely focused on their task.  
His weakened condition and high fever had made the surgery a dangerous choice, but Beckett and Garman both agreed that it would be far more dangerous to wait and had decided to whisk John into the surgical suite as soon as the team returned to the Daedalus. He'd given the Atlantis surgical team a few tense moments on the operating table but several hours later the surgery to remove infected tissue was finally concluded.   
When the last stitch had been set and the wound wrapped in bandages, Carson gave the waiting orderlies a nod and they transferred John to a fresh gurney and brought him to a small quiet corner now cordoned off as a temporary ICU area. While still not completely out of danger, his condition was slowly showing improvement and beginning to stabilize without constant intervention, allowing the two surgeons to leave his side briefly to acquire some much needed coffee while the nurses kept watch. Because he was still unconscious the breathing tube remained in place and the anesthesiologist, Ssgt. Katarina Williams, stayed close by to keep an eye on her charge. If needed, she would assist him as she waited for the sedatives to wear off. The patient's severely weakened state warranted her supervision more than ever and she tended to her task with vigilance.

# # #

The ship’s smaller mess hall had been designated as a temporary waiting room for members of the crew and friends of the two rescued officers to check in. Carson entered with Dr. Garman following right behind him and noted Ronon sitting with Teyla and Rodney at one of the tables. The three friends were freshly showered and had changed into clean clothes and they looked up at the sound of the doctors' voices. Carson lifted a finger at them to acknowledge he'd be right with them as he moved to the coffee pot and filled a mug. Normally he'd see to passing on information to the waiting friends and family first but he hadn't had the luxury of refreshments before going straight to surgery and they understood. Maddie grabbed a mug for herself along with a blueberry muffin while conferring softly with Carson before returning to the infirmary to continue to watch over their patient.   
As Maddie was leaving, Colonel Carter entered the room, nodding to Dr. Garman as they passed in the doorway and allowed the doctor to continue on her way unimpeded.   
"Carson," she greeted him as he turned from the machine and took a sip of the steaming beverage. Sheppard's team stood from the table when they saw Sam enter and collectively chose to join them.   
"Colonel," Beckett gave a nod and a grin as Sam got herself a cup of coffee.  
"Doctor Beckett?" Teyla said as she walked to him followed by her two teammates. "How is Colonel Sheppard?"  
"Well, he's not out of danger Love, but he's already showing signs of recovery. We cleaned the wound aggressively and administered the proper antibiotics. Now all we can do… is wait."  
"He's gonna be okay," Ronon said. It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement; a refusal to believe any other outcome was possible.  
"Aye," Carson agreed. "I believe he will be."  
"What about Colonel Caldwell? How is he doing?" Teyla asked.  
"Colonel Caldwell has had his leg set and cast, has eaten and is now resting. He can have visitors anytime, if you'd like to go see him. You will have to wait a bit longer to see Colonel Sheppard though he is in ICU and still unconscious. He needs quiet rest right now to regain his strength," he told them. "Both of them are showing signs of dehydration despite Colonel Sheppard's attempts to keep them in fresh water, but that's only to be expected considering the conditions they were trapped in and the ungodly heat of that planet. They’re both on continuous intravenous fluids and doing well though."   
“That’s good news,” Sam grinned. “I’ll stop in to see Steven on my way back to the bridge. Keep me informed.”  
“I’ll do that,” Carson assured her and with a nod to her team Sam headed for the infirmary.

# # #

Carrying her muffin and coffee back to the intensive care unit, Dr. Garman returned to her self-appointed vigil, one she routinely kept for all critically injured patients under her care. As she entered the small room, Madison smiled kindly at the nurse as the young woman finished tucking the sheets snugly around her newest patient before leaving the room with a nod to the doctor.  
Maddie moved further into the room as it was vacated, taking note of the read-outs on the various machines surrounding the man in the bed. After setting her coffee and muffin on the small bedside cabinet, she checked his pulse and then took her seat in a small easy chair. Picking up her tablet, she began to make notes in his chart, looking up once in a while to watch Katarina monitoring Sheppard’s condition as they waited for the appropriate time to pass before attempting to stir him from the sedated state.   
While Dr. Garman had maintained many of these vigils throughout her extensive career, this one had particular meaning for her on a personal level. She couldn't say she knew John Sheppard all that well, but she and Samantha Carter had become the best of friends while serving on Atlantis and Sam trusted her Second explicitly. The one thing Maddie was certain of was that he had been instrumental in keeping Steven alive through their entire ordeal and had nearly given his life to keep Caldwell safe and had made it possible for him to be returned to her. Smiling softly, Maddie shifted her laptop and leaned forward to pat John's hand gently.   
"I owe you for this," she said softly. “How does dinner sound?” she asked.   
“Sounds great,” Kat replied for him. She sat nearly invisible in the shadows by her patient’s head amid the monitors and other equipment and Maddie had forgotten she wasn’t alone with the unconscious man. She looked to the young woman with a good-humored grin and received one in return. 

# # #

Sam entered the small medical bay and took a brief moment to get her bearings. She remembered the room well from past missions that hadn't gone so well either. Spotting Colonel Caldwell reclining on a bed with his leg raised slightly in a sling and fresh cast, he seemed peaceful enough as she moved toward him. Sam smiled and cleared her throat. The quiet sound caused Caldwell to open one eye and peek at her.  
"Hi," Carter offered.   
"Hi," Caldwell returned, opening his eyes and lifting his head from the pillow to give her full attention.   
"How are you doing, Steven?"  
"Well, the leg is a bit sore but feels a lot better secured in plaster than that... splint," he told her, hesitating a bit.   
Sam watched him for a moment as he seemed lost in thought, his eyes unfocused seeming to look inward and he scowled with his thoughts. Sam settled onto the edge of the bed beside him. "You okay, Steven?"  
He looked at her and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful for Sheppard's efforts. The splint was fine. It was well-made and held together for nearly a week... even with me hobbling on it --"   
"Steven," Sam cut him off and then offered him an understanding smile. "It's okay. I understand what you meant."  
Caldwell looked at her carefully for a moment, contemplating whether to share his thoughts with her. Sam considered him in return as she waited, seemingly realizing there was something he wanted to say. Her patience paid off as Steven made up his mind.  
"You have a good man there," he told her. Once the words were said he nodded as if convincing himself of it still then noticed the uncertainty in her expression. Sam wasn't sure who he was talking about specifically. She was surrounded by a lot of good men and women. "Sheppard," he specified and Sam's expression opened with realization and nodded. "I was wrong about him... in some ways," he told her.  
Sam tilted her head to the side still smiling. "In some ways?"  
"Yeah," Steven nodded and shifted himself to sit up straighter. "Because in other ways I was completely right... although not necessarily a bad thing either," he pointed out truthfully and received a smile from Sam.  
"He is a refreshing change in some ways," Sam nodded then thought of General Jack O'Neill and sighed. "And in other ways, not so much." She laughed lightly as Colonel Caldwell understood the inference and gave her one of his rare smiles.  
"Honestly," he continued, "I was sure we were in a heap of trouble when that Jumper went down, but Sheppard surprised me."  
"Considering his rank and experience I shouldn't think it'd surprise you that much," she mentioned as a reminder that John Sheppard was hardly a green recruit.  
"Oh, I know," Steven agreed. "I guess I just got too wrapped up in what other people had to say about him. You hear the worst, you expect the worst..."  
Sam nodded thoughtfully then tucked her hands under her legs. "It's often better not to condemn a person until you get to know them yourself. John has a lot of detractors in his file, that's true. His record isn't squeaky clean or spotless in any way," she told him. "He makes mistakes... with the best intentions."  
"The road to hell is paved with best intentions," Steven reminded her but Sam found no humor in the attempt.   
"And Sheppard's been dealt his hand, faced the consequences, and took his lumps without complaint," she told him. "He's not perfect, but who among us is? He's a good man, Steven... and he puts everyone else before himself... no matter who they are."  
Steven nodded because he'd seen that and he knew that now to be the truth not just hearsay. "He needs to learn to follow the chain of command," Colonel Caldwell mentioned casually as if he just had to find something to nitpick and Carter grinned.  
"That he does. Although he does follow it most times ---"  
"Most times..."  
"And when he doesn't he's often right not to." Caldwell gave her a quizzical look and Sam quickly added, "In that I mean, when he doesn't it often turns out well in the end, proving that sometimes his way does work better. His ways are unconventional and often creative and not by the book, I'll admit that... but I'd want no one else by my side, Steven, especially in the Pegasus Galaxy. Nobody knows more about this galaxy and its inhabitants than John... and he seems to feel right at home in Atlantis."  
Steven considered that and nodded. He'd seen first-hand how Sheppard's ATA gene was able to assist them in surviving their ordeal. It was one thing to hear about this Ancient gene and the abilities of those who carry it, it was another thing entirely to see it work for you when in need of a miracle. She gave him plenty to think about while he sat in solitude back aboard his own ship and Sam left him to do that. Slipping off the adjacent bed she stood and gave him a gentle pat on the top of his freshly cast leg and headed for the door.  
"I'll see you later," she said and headed for the door.  
"I'll be here."


	30. Chapter 30

<><><><>

Chapter Thirty

A few hours later Sheppard slowly regained consciousness as Carson stood beside the bed urging him to wake up and open his eyes. He'd been under longer than he should have been and Katarina had brought it to Beckett's attention. The doctors weren't sure if he was still under the influence of the anesthetic or simply exhausted from his ordeal on the planet but it was time for them to make attempts to rouse him to be certain their patient was able to escape the comatose effects of the strong sedatives they'd given him.  
John's brain swam in a dizzying darkness as he tried to follow the soft voice to the surface. Carson guided him out of that place with gentle coaxing as a constant tether, bringing him back from the netherworld. He moaned and reacted to the tube in his throat with a soft gag as all his sensation reflexes woke up with him.   
"Easy, son," Dr. Beckett assured him with a gentle touch to his chest. "We'll get rid of that for you," he told John even as Kat efficiently removed the tape then skillfully pulled the long tube from his throat. He wasn't really aware of the sensation of it as it was pulled from his airway but he gasped for air on his own as his groggy mind tried to put things in order for him.  
He felt odd and out of control, vulnerable and fearful. What happened? His hands moved, searching... for what? He found the bed rails and gripped them tightly as if trying to pull himself upright but he hadn't the strength needed. He groaned his displeasure at all these negative sensations and not knowing what had happened to him. Turning his head to the side, as if the action would make the feelings go away, John tried to speak but only a hoarse sound escaped his throat.   
Madison tried to talk to him to sooth his fears, but he didn't seem to hear her. Or he could hear her but didn't recognize her voice through the blanket of fog. "I'll be right back," she told Carson and he nodded as she turned toward the door. She stepped out and saw Teyla walking down the corridor. She'd been heading that way with hopes of being able to find out more information about Colonel Sheppard's condition. "Just the person I was hoping to find. You must have ESP," Maddie smiled and asked Teyla to return to the recovery room with her.  
John panted for air as he fought the negative feelings surrounding him even as Carson tried to comfort him. He tried to swallow and couldn't remember how. His chest heaved a few times and the monitors' bleeps demanded attention and Carson hushed him softly yet again. Katarina disposed of the equipment she'd just removed from the patient and pointed Dr. Beckett's attention to the door where Teyla stood with Madison. He smiled and beckoned her to come forward.   
"It's okay. Come in, Teyla," he invited. "Perhaps your presence will lend him a bit more comfort than mine."  
She took his invitation and smiled at him as she came alongside the bed opposite him then she looked down at John. He was pale and barely semi-conscious, his movements were jerky and not totally in his control and he seemed a bit distressed about his situation. She stroked his cheek with a tender touch and gently loosened his frantic grip on the rail. She threaded the fingers of her other hand into his and felt him give a gentle squeeze. Teyla smiled softly as John curled his fingers around hers and she stroked his hair to quiet him. "Shhh, it's okay, John. You're safe now," she told him. "You're on board the Daedalus and we're going home."   
"...lantis," he slurred as if in response to her.  
"Yes, Atlantis. Our home," she told him and stroked her fingers through his hair. She held tightly to his hand as Carson opened a tiny wheel on the I.V. drip, just enough to let a little more fluid flow to help flush the remaining sedative from his system. Teyla's presence helped to keep John assured that he was safe and he relaxed a great deal with her by his side. Not long after, Teyla’s soft melodic voice began to slow and slur and became distorted, as if spinning in a circle around his brain until it was no more. He tried to chase her voice, to follow it to a peaceful place as he slipped back down into the silent darkness.

# # # 

Sheppard was still sleeping heavily twelve hours later when the Daedalus came out of hyperspace over Atlantis and the two injured men were transferred to the City’s infirmary. They were set up together in the same section for observation and recovery their first day back, and both spent most of the first twenty-four hours sleeping which made their care much easier on the nursing staff.  
The following morning Caldwell was given a bed in the general area so he could receive visitors. Carson ordered him to bed rest for continued observation for forty-eight hours and then another day or two to allow his leg to set properly. He promised Steven a pair of crutches once he was sure he was well enough to get around on them safely.  
Sheppard was tucked away in the critical care unit for his first forty-eight hours but he woke on his own around hour eighteen, just enough to get the attention of the two men sitting with him. Lorne was smiling at someone John couldn't see and Evan turned to look at him when he lifted a hand to the nasal cannula set in his nose to give him a low flow but steady stream of oxygen.  
"Hey, Colonel," Evan greeted him, turning slightly on the swivel chair. "How are you feeling?"  
John took a slow deep breath and blinked his blurry eyes as he oriented himself, recognizing the room he was lying in. "Ummm," he began and then cleared his throat. "I feel like crap... how are you feeling?" he asked.   
A pair of large hands settled carefully on his head, one under his chin and the other on the side of his head as if being cradled. Before he could register just who it was, he saw Ronon's smiling face above him, upside down. He'd been sitting at Sheppard's head at the end of the bed facing Lorne so he could keep an eye on the surrounding area while Lorne faced John as the two waited, hoping he'd wake.   
"Hey, buddy," Ronon said, with a big smile.   
"Hey," John whispered back. He looked haggard and beaten down, but he grinned.   
Seeing his best friend back among the living, after so much trauma on the trail, in the river, and aboard the ship, Ronon could hardly contain his lifted spirits. He squeezed John's face lightly in his big hands and then without even realizing what he was doing, he pressed his lips to Sheppard's forehead. It was simply his overflowing relief expressed in uninhibited exuberance and nothing more, but the unexpected contact made John pause. "I'll get the doc," Ronon announced and moved swiftly out of the area to find Dr. Beckett, not even realizing what he'd done in his delight. Lorne watched him go with a grin and then looked at Colonel Sheppard who was also watching Ronon's back disappear from view. When the Satedan was out of ear shot, John looked at his Second-in-Command.   
"Did he just kiss me?"  
Lorne hesitated.  
"No, Sir."  
John closed his eyes again and let out a breath.  
"Good answer, Major."  
"Thank you, Sir." 

# # # 

Sheppard was kept tucked away in the critical care unit for his first forty-eight hours before being moved to the general ward with Colonel Caldwell. Although he had been ordered to forced bed rest for the next three days, to be sure the wound in his leg had sufficient time to begin healing without his putting strain on it, he was hardly the most patient of patients.   
“You don’t listen very well,” Steven said, stating the obvious as he watched from his bed, which was facing John's but positioned slightly to the left so they weren't looking straight at each other unless they wanted to. He'd been occupying himself with a crossword puzzle until the activity across from him began. He simply laid the book down on his lap and watched, making a comment now and again to make an attempt to talk some sense into the other officer but he also seemed to know it wouldn't work, no matter what he said. Of course, he'd learned a long time ago that John Sheppard would do what John Sheppard wanted to do once he got it in his head to do it.   
So there was John, once again dragging his injured leg over the side of the bed, which took a lot of effort since he couldn’t really lift the leg normally. The damage to the thigh muscles had been extensive and still pained him when he over-exerted it, but he was beginning to go stir crazy lying in bed so he gripped his knee with both hands, took a breath and lifted the wounded leg as he shifted to the side.  
“It’ll be fine,” John replied offering a crooked grin.  
“You’ll fall on your face like you did yesterday,” Steven remarked, folding his arms over his chest as he watched the other with a sense of morbid fascination.   
John clenched his teeth together as his foot went over the side and gravity dragged the weight of it toward the floor. The pull on his leg made him hiss and catch his breath and he nearly fell off the bed trying to get his foot to the floor quickly enough to help support the weight of the damaged leg. Both hands were wrapped around the thick bandages as John took a few slow deep breaths and waited for the pain to subside.  
“Do you have to do everything the hard way?” Caldwell asked. “I’m sure Dr. Beckett or one of the nurses would be happy to help you when it’s time for –“  
“I’m good. I got it,” Sheppard replied through gritted teeth, although now that he was sort of on his feet he didn’t seem to be able to move from his spot.   
Steven just shook his head without commenting. He had to wonder what it was about John Sheppard that put so much fight into the man. Not that he was complaining; it was that fight to keep going, that fight to survive anything, that had kept both of them alive on an alien planet for four whole days in less-than-ideal circumstances.   
“You don’t have it. You can’t even move now,” Steven felt compelled to point out.  
“I’m fine.”  
“He’s going to catch you again.”  
“No, he won’t. Besides, I only need to go a few feet and back again… just to get off my back. Can’t stay in bed like that. Drives me insane.”  
“The more you push it the longer you’ll be here,” Caldwell pointed out yet again.  
“I’m fine.”  
“It’s too soon. You’re going to do more damage and be laid up even longer.”  
“No, I won’t,” John assured his roommate with a slight shake of his head.  
“Dr. Beckett might just make you stay an extra day out of spite, ya’ know,” Steven mentioned and that made Sheppard pause and think for a moment then he nodded in agreement.  
“Now, that, I can see,” John agreed then carefully tested the strength of his injured leg by putting some of his weight on it.   
Steven continued to watch out of curiosity but glanced around at other activities in the infirmary outside their private area as if detached from the situation directly. He watched a nurse walk by the curtained entrance with a sphygmomanometer in her hand and then another nurse walked in the opposite direction empty handed. A soft grunt pulled his attention back to his stubborn companion who was taking tiny shuffling steps with an over-exaggerated limp that proved to Steven that the other man was in a great deal of pain and should just stop his attempts to walk on the injured limb when a sudden thought occurred to him.  
“So what’s with the blue rabbits?” Steven asked, still watching Sheppard with an expression of mild interest. The question seemed to come from nowhere and John blinked with a confused frown. He slowly turned his face toward Caldwell as he held his place.   
“The what?”  
“The blue rabbits.”  
“Blue… rabbits?” John echoed.  
Steven sighed. “Yeah! The blue rabbits. What’s with the blue rabbits?”  
“What are you talking about?” Sheppard asked, but his wary tone was evidence that just the mention of the oddly colored Lapins had triggered a memory.   
“You were having a fevered dream… talking in your sleep,” Steven said as John’s eyes seemed to bore into him. “Well, it wasn't really sleep, more like… delirium... and you suddenly shouted “The rabbits are blue!” so... why were the rabbits blue?” he asked.  
John averted his gaze and lowered his head as his eyes focused inward, toward that memory. A smile slowly bloomed on his face and he settled back down on the edge of the bed, taking the weight off his leg, as he collected the memory of it. Steven cocked his head slightly as he waited.  
“Blue rabbits,” John stated softly with a crooked grin on his face. He looked at Steven and smiled then turned slightly to face him as he shared the story. “I was about six years old,” he began. Steven studied him as he listened to the story. “We had rabbits. Horses too – mostly horses – my dad owned a huge ranch,” he told Caldwell.   
“Really. Rich kid?” Steven asked with disbelief.  
“Yeah,” John admitted. The expression on his face told Steven clearly that that was a rocky subject in itself. “Not really my kind of lifestyle. My father wanted my brother and me to take over the family business one day.”  
“Which was?” Steven asked.  
“Oh... my father owned an industrial empire. Oil, timber, steel… you name it. A huge conglomerate with major interests in mining, shipbuilding, construction, real estate, transportation, the media...”  
“Media, huh?” Caldwell emphasized.   
“Yeah. Believe me, it was no accident that I ended up at McMurdo, instead of Levenworth. A few secret meetings behind closed doors with a couple of five-star generals and Johnny-boy gets tucked away, far from nosy reporters who'd love to dig up whatever dirt they could find on such an influential businessman as Patrick Sheppard. Politics... it's all politics. So... thanks to dear-old-dad, instead of a court-martial for disobeying direct orders and a guilty conviction for the aftermath of my actions... I was given a promotion to Major in exchange for keeping my mouth shut about what I knew... and shipped to the other side of the world to keep my black marks from giving Dad a black eye in public.”  
“I see.”  
“Do you?” John asked.  
Steven considered him for a moment and weighed all the things he knew of John Sheppard up to this point and he nodded. He was beginning to understand more clearly. Sheppard's devotion to the ideal that no one will be left behind actually seemed to stem from his own experience in being left behind, tossed away... and denied or forgotten by those who should have cared more about him than, well, most anything else. Steven couldn't deny, off the record, that he agreed with Sheppard's choice to go back in, risking his life and that of his crew, along with a $16 million dollar Pave Hawk helicopter.. . to try to save an Army Ranger caught behind enemy lines.   
“Yeah. I do,” Caldwell nodded.  
“Well, anyway, Dad had my whole life planned out for me since I was about fourteen," John told him with a sardonic grin. "Of course, he probably should’ve thought to discuss it with me first before he tried to set it all in stone. Apparently he'd always envisioned me and Dave walking into board meetings and take-overs by his side wearing tailored three-piece suits and designer Italian shoes.”  
“Oh boy,” Steven replied with a slight grin, “and instead you chose BDU’s and combat boots.”  
“Yeah,” John replied with his own grin.   
Steven smiled with him and, when John seemed to sink into darker thoughts about his past, he brought them back to his original train of thought. “Blue rabbits?”  
“Oh... yeah," John grinned. “So... when I was about six years old we had these rabbits; two brown ones and four white ones. I was always taking the rabbits out of the hutch," he said with a big smile, "… and my father would always yell at me to put them back. My brother would get mad too, because he’d have to stop whatever he was doing to help me round them all up.” Steven waited as John paused, grinning at the memory. “Well, anyway, one day I left them out too long and then went off to play… forgetting about the rabbits being loose. They ran all over the place and ended up in the paddocks, and the garden, and in the stables," he said and chuckled. "One even found its way into the chicken coop.”  
“You had chickens too?” Steven asked.  
“Yeah. The chickens were Dave’s project. Dad’s way of teaching him some responsibility without giving him a stable full of thoroughbreds to ruin,” John said with a grin. “He was only eight after all.”  
“And yours was the rabbits?” Steven asked.  
“I was six!” John shrugged with a wide grin. Steven grinned too, as if he suddenly realized why the rabbits were blue; because they were John Sheppard’s rabbits and things just seemed to turn out unconventionally when John Sheppard was involved.   
“Okay,” Caldwell nodded. “You were six and…”  
John nodded and went back to the story. “... and Dave and I ran around the grounds scooping up rabbits and tossing them back into their hutches. I swear they were nearly as big as me," he laughed. "Well in the end, one was missing so we went searching for it… found it in the chicken house. It was actually nestled down nice and snug in one of the nesting boxes. Dave lifted the rabbit out of the box and handed him to me and then we noticed there were two eggs in the nesting box." John glanced at Steven to see him hanging on to every word as if listening to a mission debriefing. "Well of course, Dave, being a big brother and all, noticed me still standing there staring at the eggs. That's when he got the bright idea to tell me that my rabbit must be the Easter bunny and had come into the chicken coop to lay his Easter eggs.”  
Steven grinned.  
“Well, I put the rabbit back in his hutch... but to think that I owned the Easter Bunny… Me.” Sheppard smiled and Steven chuckled softly. “So that weekend, I woke up and ran downstairs to my mother’s kitchen pantry. I found the food coloring she would use to decorate cookies... and figured if the Easter Bunny lays white eggs when he’s white –“  
“...then he should lay blue eggs when he’s blue…” Steven finished.  
“Exactly. See? You and I, we think alike,” John pointed out jokingly and Steven chuffed good-humored.  
“So you dyed the rabbits blue.”  
“Yeah,” John smiled openly. “Only the blue dye turned the brown rabbits green,” he laughed. “When I let the rabbits out to run around the grounds, my father saw them and I thought he’d pitch a fit. “Why are the rabbits blue??” he hollered.” John chuckled with the memory. “Well… my mother thought it was very creative.”   
“Mothers always do,” Steven told him.   
“Yeah… I guess so,” John grinned.   
The two men shared that moment silently, reminiscing about their own mothers privately when an unexpected voice suddenly startled John back to the present.  
“And what do you think you are doing?” Carson’s scolding tone came at him much like his father’s would have.  
“Told you,” Steven pointed out quietly.  
“Told me what?” John asked as Caldwell threw him under the bus.  
“I told you you’d get in trouble.”  
“You did not!” John tossed back and Steven grinned smugly.


	31. Chapter 31

<><><><>

Chapter Thirty-One

“Get back in that bed!” Carson scolded him as he dropped his electronic notebook on the chair nearby. He proceeded to lever John’s leg back up onto the bed forcing Sheppard to scoot backward on his hands and butt. “Do I have to have ye' strapped in?” Beckett asked, receiving an innocent look from Atlantis’ military commander. “Oh, don’t give me that look,” he continued to chastise. “You stay where I put ye’.”  
“Aw, c’mon Doc, it’s been four days,” Sheppard pointed out.  
“It’s been _only _four days,” Carson emphasized and John smirked as the doctor's Scottish brogue always became more pronounced when he was riled up. “That leg is nowhere near healed enough to take your weight and I don’t need you pulling out my stitch work and making a bloody mess for me to clean up.”  
“Eww… Doc.”  
“Figure o’ speech, son. You know what I mean!” Carson verbally slapped his patient as he tucked him back into the bed and pulled up the rail on that side, locking his patient into the bed.   
John blinked at him and then looked at Caldwell. Steven just grinned at the captured man.  
“I swear I’m going to have to put a leash on you,” Beckett muttered as he rounded John’s bed and headed toward Caldwell. Just then a nurse walked in carrying a pair of crutches.   
“Doctor? You asked for these?”   
“Ah, yes, thank you.”  
“For me?” Sheppard asked with bright eyes, shifting himself to sit taller in the bed.  
“Not bloody likely,” Carson grumbled and John scowled. “Thank you, Marie,” he said, taking the pair of crutches from her. “Colonel Caldwell….”  
“Oh come on!” John complained. “Why does he get to leave?”  
“Because he knows how to behave and follow orders,” Beckett told him, still scolding.  
“So do I!”  
“HA!” Steven barked and Carson froze, blinking at him. “Sorry, doctor.”  
“Oh, don’t be. It’s true,” Carson waved off the apology as he helped Colonel Caldwell to his feet. “Here ye’ go,” he said, holding out the pair of crutches and Steven tucked them under each arm. “Do you know how to use these?” Carson asked.  
“Yeah, I’ve been on crutches before,” Steven assured him and then demonstrated by moving ten paces away and turned to come back. He stopped beside Sheppard’s bed and gave him a smug look as John glared at him in envy.   
"Well, I don't want you going anywhere just yet either. I've requested some clothes for you from the Daedalus and they should be here this afternoon. So until then you are still a patient in my care. Understood?"  
"Understood," Steven acknowledged.  
"But you may practice using the crutches if you like... short trips around the infirmary or down the hall..."  
Sheppard looked up at him with his mouth gaping open as if to protest.  
"A short distance," Carson added quickly and John's mouth snapped closed without a sound.   
Colonel Caldwell exercised his right to move about the area, practicing with the crutches and testing his own physical strength and stamina in the safe environment. He came back to the area Sheppard was contained in often enough to keep the other man from feeling abandoned. A few times he'd returned to see John lying back with his eyes closed and waited for him to open them. Sometimes he didn't and Steven would just turn away quietly and leave his companion to catch obviously needed sleep. A few times though he'd come back and get a glare from Sheppard from over the top of a puzzle book or magazine and Steven couldn't help but grin. There was little in the galaxy more humorous than a grown man sulking.__

__# # #_ _

__Through the afternoon hours Steven found himself one minute entertained by John's repeated escape attempts, finding it rather amusing as one of the nurses or Beckett himself would catch and scold him for not following orders as they tossed him back in bed and locked the rails up around him. Alternatively, he found himself reprimanding the Lt. Colonel for his constant complaining and his passive-aggressive commentary to the nursing staff as they passed by ignoring his coercive attempts to manipulate them into freeing him from his bondage.  
"If I had to stay in bed, so do you," Steven told him.   
"You don't have to anymore," John reminded him. "And I hate just lying around," John nearly whined and the sound made Steven clench his teeth again.  
"Stop your whining. It's not like I'm on vacation here."  
"Yeah, but you're getting out of here today," John reminded him from his bed ten feet away.   
"And I wasn't at death's door less than a week ago either," Steven reminded him. It didn't have the effect he'd hoped, which was to remind his companion of the reality of his situation, because Sheppard simply scowled at him.   
"Well, I'm fine now," John threw back.   
"You're not fine. You still have a gaping wound in your leg and you obviously need the rest," Steven tried to reason with him. His voice was quiet and his tone level as he focused on his own puzzle book that Sheppard's team had brought to keep him occupied. They had actually brought numerous books and magazines, DVDs and even John's personal gaming units that he always carried with him on base to keep his active mind entertained during down times, but even those things wore thin quite fast.  
Sheppard stared at Caldwell from his bed. Steven circled a word in the book, or was filling in an answer, he couldn't tell but the Colonel was focused on the page in front of him. John glanced around, searching the immediate area, eyes roaming as he tried not to turn his head and draw attention to himself.  
When he noted the coast was clear he chanced it again. Leaning forward slowly, he looked to his right, as far across the room as he could see, before looking at Caldwell again to be sure he hadn't given himself up. Steven was still studying the page of his book. John looked to his left, leaning as far forward as he could and wincing with the pain as the move stretched the muscles and tissue around the wound of his thigh.  
The coast was clear there too. He shot a quicker, less discreet glance around the whole area and his eyes lit up. He smiled openly as he realized his good fortune; no staff in sight. He pushed the blankets off his lap and had to reach down to pull it from around his foot since he still couldn't bend his leg that well to free it. His sudden movement caught Caldwell's attention and Steven glanced over the top of the book in reflex. He did a double take as he realized that Sheppard was initiating yet another escape attempt.   
"Sheppard!" he hissed at Sheppard, but John was undeterred. He didn't even pause as Steven scolded, dropping the puzzle book to his lap and looking around for a duty nurse.   
"I'll be back," John told him as he gingerly swiveled around to the side of the bed where the rail had not been raised in protest and carefully lowered his injured leg from the bed. Gingerly he put his foot down on the floor and tested it under his weight. “Can I borrow those?” he asked, gesturing toward the pair of crutches leaning on the chair beside Caldwell’s bed.  
“No, you can’t.”  
“Oh, come on. I’ll be back in two minutes! Give me the crutches and I won’t hurt myself,” John tried to reason, “and I’ll be right back. I swear.”  
“No, you won’t. You get out of here and you’re gone. We’ll have to send a search party out to find you.”  
“No, you won’t,” John told him and shimmied himself slowly to the foot of his bed, holding onto it for balance as he kept his weight off his bad leg. Making it closer to Caldwell’s bed where the man reclined, now fully attired in civilian street clothes. Relaxing in his white button up shirt and faded blue jeans and sneakers, he looked all the sight of a normal guy just waiting for his release orders. John stretched as far as he could; trying to reach the crutches while balancing on one foot.   
“Sheppard,” Caldwell warned.   
John ignored him and reached out again, holding onto the frame of the bed to keep upright, he leaned over and stretched out. He got close to reaching the crutches as Steven watched then Caldwell casually reached out and lifted the crutches off the floor and swung them over the bed to deposit them on the other side, out of Sheppard’s reach.  
“Nnnghh!!” John growled loudly in frustration then gasped as the strain caused a painful throb to race through his wounded thigh.   
Steven watched him with an angry frown as John took a few deep breaths, leaning heavily on the bed as he waited for the pain to subside. When the pain finally abated he leaned out again, searching the main area of the infirmary for any sign of his captors-in-white and when he didn't see any he smiled again. He hopped around the curve of the bed trying to get closer to a nearby wall abutment with the hope of using it for balance as he tried to make his way toward the exit.  
Steven watched him silently with a detached curiosity; not so much a concerned interest as much as the morbid curiosity of watching a train wreck in slow motion and being unable to turn away. And so he simply watched... until Dr. Beckett suddenly appeared behind John. Carson planted his hands on his hips as he too watched in silence as his patient tried to run off again. Steven's disapproving frown relaxed and turned upward into a satisfied smirk.   
John looked over his shoulder to see if Caldwell had noticed him yet and when he saw the other looking at him he gave Steven a crooked grin. He was about to turn away again when he noted the smirk on Caldwell's face and paused uncertainly. Sheppard blinked and scowled at him curiously. He was about to ask what the smirk was about when Caldwell simply raised both eyebrows at him and then he heard the clearing of a throat behind him. Was it possible for a cleared throat to have a Scottish accent to it?  
Sheppard's cocky expression fell and that reaction made Steven grin with satisfaction. The gig was up, John knew. He slowly turned around to cast a look behind him and saw Carson giving him a stern look.  
"H-hey, Doc," he greeted, feigning innocence.   
"Don't ye' 'hey, doc' me. What do you think you are doing?" Carson asked and stepped toward Sheppard. John held his place as Beckett came up alongside him and put his arm around his torso. "Let's go," he said and helped him back to the bed. "I swear you're going to be the death of me. Stay put," he ordered as he got Sheppard back to the bed and pulled up the other rail yet again to keep him in the bed for sure this time.   
Sheppard at least had the good sense to look as contrite as a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Caldwell couldn't help but grin at the show. He was starting to get the real picture of what Sam and the others had to deal with every day. It wasn't all that bad though, even he had to admit. It was sort of entertaining if you allowed it to be.   
As Carson was pulling up the rails of John's bed yet again, Madison walked in carrying a jacket draped over her arm. She stopped in step and smiled. "Again? Colonel Sheppard, you really need to learn to follow doctor's orders."   
"He needs to learn to follow any orders," Steven told her.   
"Yes, well," she replied, turning to him, she held the jacket out for him to take. "Not everyone can be as by-the-book as you are, my darling."  
Steven blinked at her and then his cheeks flushed slightly as he heard Sheppard mutter 'my darling' from his make-shift jail. His eyes shifted to John and Carson to see both of them grinning at him. Madison smiled, knowing she'd put him on the spot.   
"Okay, you ready to go?" she asked.  
"Yeah. More than ready," he answered and slipped his arms into the light jacket. John scowled at him and Steven paused as Madison waited with his crutches ready. "No offense."  
"Offense taken," John replied and crossed his arms in protest.  
Suddenly the room was full of activity as Ronon, Teyla and Rodney came in. They'd heard Colonel Caldwell was going to be leaving and decided to visit John to make the transition to "solitary" less painful. They were each pleasantly surprised or, in Rodney's case, simply just surprised to see others already there as well.  
"Hey," Ronon offered to no one in particular.  
"Good afternoon," Teyla greeted the four in the room and moved toward John's bed. Noting the rails on the bed were locked up high, she grinned at the captive who was now glowering at Caldwell, obviously unhappy about his impending release. "Still trying to escape, Colonel?" she asked, amused.  
"Just trying to go for a walk," he stated with a haughty expression.   
"A walk?" Rodney shot back. "More like a crawl... a limp at best."  
"You're not helping," John told him.  
"I'm not trying to help," Rodney replied. "Why would I try to help you? We just got you back... I'm not about to volunteer for another search party to find your ass when you get hobbled up God-knows-where out there." He waved his hand to indicate the entire city at large. "Frankly, if Carson was smart, he'd threaten to tack on an extra day's stay for each escape attempt."  
John glared at Rodney with a sudden urge to commit homicide for making such a suggestion.  
"Now that's a splendid idea!" Carson beamed and John's head snapped around and he stared at Beckett with a look of horror on his face.  
"See?" Caldwell interjected, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Nobody is in the mood for another search and rescue."  
John heaved a sigh. This imprisonment was intolerable, especially having to sit and watch as Caldwell got his release orders. "This could be interpreted as 'unlawful restraint', ya' know?" Sheppard muttered.  
"Quit your bitching," Ronon scolded this time. John blinked at him surprised even as the others smirked.   
"Great. This is so unfair. It really is... and totally not necessary," John insisted, still undeterred.   
"Well, ye'r staying put. I'll get the SOs in here to keep ye' here if I have to," Carson told him. The threat of security officers to guard him only made Sheppard roll his eyes, but the wheels were still turning as he tried to plan another escape attempt.  
"Hello?" A small feminine voice cut through all the banter and everyone in the room quieted and looked toward the doorway. Ronon and Rodney stepped aside to reveal a small woman with long black hair and standing about five feet tall with a silver inlaid tattoo on her forehead. She was Jaffa and very beautiful, of obvious Oriental descent, and she had a small basket slung on her forearm.   
"Commander Lili'th," Colonel Caldwell greeted her, mildly surprised to see her. "It's nice to see you. What can I do for you?" Steven asked his Wing Commander.  
"I require nothing from you, ColonelCaldwell," she replied and bowed her head respectfully. "I was made aware of your release from infirmary today and thought I would come to visit LieutenantColonelJohnSheppard."  
John blinked and smiled openly with delighted surprise. Ronon and Rodney eyeballed him with suspicion and wonderment. How did Sheppard meet these women?  
Teyla smiled at Lili'th and turned to John. The two friends shared a look and Teyla patted him on the shoulder. She knew John had special feelings for her, and she had a close bond with him... neither, however, really knew or understood what it all meant for them. So they continued to remain teammates and good friends and lived their lives as if there was nothing more... because, at least for the present, there could be nothing more.  
"What's in the basket, Lil?" Maddie asked. She could only imagine.  
"Oh... I was also informed of JohnSheppard's continued infirmity," she told them, "and decided I would come to relieve him and do some nitpicking."  
"Nitpicking?" Carson asked.  
"Yes, nitpicking is a pleasing experience. Yes?" she said.   
Caldwell chuckled softly as he got himself situated on his crutches, realizing Lili'th's English skills were still being honed.   
"Picnicking," he offered. "It's picnicking, Lili'th... not nitpicking."  
The others, suddenly aware of the Wing Commander's interests with Colonel Sheppard were on a more personal level, came to attention and took their leave. Offering their good-byes to the trapped, but now smiling, Colonel Sheppard, his team waved and headed for the door as Madison escorted Steven out. As the pair came near, Madison paused to let Steven speak to Sheppard.  
"It's been an experience," Caldwell told him. "I wish I could say it was a pleasure." He grinned and held out his hand in a good will gesture.   
John smiled back and clasped the proffered hand. "I hope we never have to spend quite that much time together again," he added and the two men nodded.  
Madison smiled at them and turned to whisper to Lili'th. "Did you remember the red and white tablecloth? You can't have a picnic without a tablecloth."  
"Yes," Lil answered and dug into the basket to retrieve it. "I was told that a table cloth was a necessary and important part of pic-nic-king." She glanced around and blinked wide eyes. "But... I do not see a table to cloth."  
Madison smiled and took the tablecloth from her hands. Flipping it open she draped the material over John's legs and then lowered the railing. She locked it in place below the bed and looked at him pointedly.  
"Stay," she ordered.  
John smiled at her, glanced at Lili'th and then back to Maddie. "I promise," he said, crossing his heart with one finger.  
"Mmmhhmm... now I believe you will."  
She and Steven left the room, leaving Lili'th to set out the picnic items with John's help. A last glance over her shoulder, Maddie saw Lili'th step up on the bed stool and perch on the bed with great care beside his legs. She was pleased to see that Sheppard was in good hands and wouldn't be trying to escape again anytime soon._ _

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__\ End /_ _


End file.
